The Parting of the Twain
by ParvatiPadma
Summary: It is George Weasley's Seventh and final year at Hogwarts; and he is finding it difficult to cope with life after the post of Quidditch captain has gone to his Fred until that is he starts to get to know Padma Patil. But some dark force connects them and
1. Couples Entwined

Okay guys, J.K. Rowling is a very cool woman and I do not wish to rip her off. Everything here is more or less hers.  
  


THE PARTING OF THE TWAIN  


They were born of the same parentage, with the same appearance only separated by two minutes in time of their birth and now their Hogwarts Houses.  
Parvati had always had more confidence than Padma. Both sisters knew it; but both still felt that it was unfair that Padma was not put in Gryffindor along with her sister.  
  
Of course, Parvati has always been better at Arithmancy, said Parvez Patil, driving back from Kings Cross Station where he and his wife had dropped off their daughters. I knew _she_ would be in Gryffindor.  
I think you are very hard on Padma, sniffed Priyanka Patil, replying in their mother tongue - Urdu. They are both our _betis_ after all.  
Yes, but Parvati has something Padma lacks... replied Parvez. I cannot quite place it... people just - flock to her. Like Harry Potter for instance.  
Priyanka growing tired of the conversation tried not to retort, but when Parvez persisted saying that he had told Parvati to invite Harry back for the summer, she was forced to answer.  
Parvati told me how it _really _was. Harry was Triwizard Champion and needed a partner. The girl he wanted to ask said no. He danced once with Parvati because he had to. Then he ignored her for the rest of the night and she went off with some boys from Beauxbatons.  
Professor Parvez Patil sniffed. He did not like his favoured daughter to be referred to as a girl who went off with some boys.  
  


*  
  


They were born of the same parentage, with the same appearance only separated by two minutes in time of their birth and now the captaincy of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.  
Frederick Weasley had always been more dominant than his brother George.  
Both brothers knew it and it had never affected them as much as it did now, in their seventh and final year at Hogwarts.  
But it's not even as though Fred's a better player! cried Molly Weasley. Arthur tried to block out and changed the subject. It's just gone eleven, he said looking at the hallway clock which now read Hogwarts Express now left.  
George is just as good as him! she continued.  
Molly, dear, said Arthur resignedly folding up his copy of _The Daily Prophet._ I think it's unfair that Fred was picked over George too, but they had to pick one of them. Imagine if neither of them got it! George is happy, he told me.  
Oh, as though he would tell you! snapped Molly.  
Molly, it's not my fault! cried Arthur exasperated.  
Molly collapsed next to her husband on the sofa. (It groaned.) But Fred's always been the leader of them. How will George cope?  


*  


The train whistled and slowed. It'll be good to be back, said Fred, but this train journey was the best!  
George privately disagreed. Their compartment 6 was packed. Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet sat talking mainly to one another but Angelina Johnson - a girl George had been in love with for the better part of six years - took great pleasure in sitting on Fred's lap. Of course George did not blame them, no-one had ever known how he had felt about Angelina, but it still cracked his heart into a thousand pieces when he thought about the way his brother, his twin had danced with the girl of his dreams at the Yule Ball.  
One of their best friends, Harry Potter had given his Triwizard Winnings to them for the Joke Shop. George had made all the decision making - and Fred had got the Credit.  
As they descended from the train for the second last time, Angelina and Fred led the way, closely followed by Alicia and Katie. George lagged behind, weighed down by a broken heart and an old Cleansweep Seven that had brought him no luck on the Quidditch field.  


*  


Padma slid into a seat at the Ravenclaw table inbetween her best friends Lisa Turpin and Amanda Brocklehurst. It was time for the annual sorting. Padma glanced over at the Gryffindor table where her sister Parvati was sitting talking to Lavender Brown, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. Padma caught a sight of the Weasley twins and suddenly wished she were at the table too.  
Albus Dumbledore broke into her thoughts. ...We also salute new Quidditch captains. Ravenclaw- Hufflepuff - Slytherin - Gryffindor - Fred Weasley.  
  
Padma found herself torn in two as she applauded. How could they pick one of the twins? How could they tear the pair apart?  


*  


Hi George, smiled Hermione Granger as the tall fiery haired seventh year entered the empty Gryffindor common room. It was three o'clock in the morning of the first day back - and already Hermione was doing work.  
Work already Hermione? asked George collapsing into a seat next to her. Well you know with Ordinary Wizarding Levels only a couple of months away...  
They're in June. Hermione, it's September the 1st - well the 2nd.  
Hermione ignored him so George continued. Still, I suppose you'll have to set an example now, being a Prefect and all. Suppose I should say Congratulations.  
Hermione grinned and tried not to look too pleased with herself. And Congratulations to you too.  
George looked up with a blank expression on his face. Oh right, he said eventually.   
Hermione shook her head. No, George, you. I know how much you wanted that captaincy - no don't interrupt I _know _you did - and I also know that you've been really, well, _noble_ about it to Fred. And it's going to be harder to be the Captain's twin brother than the Captain. That deserves a Congratulations.  
George went so red that he had to excuse himself and hurry up to bed. He supposed Ron must have told Hermione something. She was a nice kid, like a sister to him.  
*  
Padma lay in bed staring at her blue velvet curtains surrounding her four-poster bed. She could hear Lisa's heavy breathing and Mandy's snoring. In five hours Padma would be in Transfiguration, but she could not help feeling, excited as she was, very depressed. Even though she knew Lisa and Mandy very well and told them everything, they could have no idea what she was going through. Could anyone understand?   
Yes, she realised slowly, someone could. Someone who knew exactly how she felt because he was in the same position himself.  
However, trying to talk to George Weasley would be impossible. He was in Gryffindor and two years older than her. Although she and Ron had been on pretty good terms since they had partnered each other at the Yule Ball, she could not ask him to introduce her to his older brother.  
She was seized with an idea. She would sit down at the Gryffindor table. George would mistake her for Parvati, she would tell him that she was Padma and all would go to plan. Yes that would be good....  
*  
Next morning after telling Lisa and Mandy that she was going across to speak to Parvati (despite them pointing out that Parvati and Lavender were not down yet) Padma slid into a seat next to Harry, Ron and Hermione. Hi Parvati, Hermione said absentmindedly. Lavender not down yet?  
Padma shrugged. Fred and George entered. Fred was holding hands with a tall black girl who was a Chaser on the Quidditch team. They sat with the rest of the team but   
Hi Padma, said George. You joining Gryffindor for breakfast today?  
Padma opened her mouth but no sound escaped. She stole a glance at Harry, Ron and Hermione who were all wearing the same expression as she was.   
How did you know? she muttered.  
George smiled. You think I've spent almost eighteen years of my life looking identical to another human being without being able to tell twins apart?  
Padma smiled back. She knew they were going to get along.


	2. Defence Against the Dark Teacher

Okay, blue for Ravenclaw and Padma, red for Gryffindor and George, black for them both.

"I can't believe it!" cried Mandy, distraught. "You spoke to George _Weasley _and you didn't take me with you!"

It was the first period of the day: Herbology and the fourth year Ravenclaws and Slytherins were in the greenhouse with Madam Sprout.

"I don't know what _you're _complaining about," grumbled Lisa, glancing over at Terrence Boot, who fancied Mandy. "But I would have thought that you'd let me be there, Padma."

"I'm sorry," smiled Padma, trying not to love the attention. "But I had to talk to him myself." She looked out of the greenhouse window where the Gryffindor Quidditch team was practising. "Besides, it was an only a one-off. He's probably forgotten all about it by now."

*

"You were getting pretty cosy with that Ravenclaw fifth year, Weasley."

Both Fred and George, (the Beaters) turned around sharply on their broomsticks. Katie and Alicia, two of the Chasers were grinning, their hair flowing back in the wind by the gentle breeze.

The remaining Chaser, Angelina zoomed across to them and took Fred's hand. "I think you'll find she's talking to George. Unless you _were _trying it on with a fifth year," she teased, and flew away, closely tailed by Fred.

George scowled as they left. "It was nothing. Padma's a friend of Ron's."

"What's that about Ron?" asked Harry, the Seeker nose-diving down to them.

"We were talking about Padma," George replied.

Harry frowned and adjusted his glasses. "Who?" he asked.

George rolled his eyes. "Padma _Patil,_" he said.

"Oh right," said Harry. "Hold on-" The Golden Snitch was heading towards them. Harry glided swiftly in its direction and caught it in his hand. He turned his Firebolt back towards them. "I don't really know Padma. Just that she's Parvati's sister. Ron knows her though. They went to the Yule Ball together."

"Harry!" yelled Fred. "Alicia, Katie, George! Get over here!"

*

"Who do you reckon, it'll be?" asked Terry. Padma shrugged. In her time at Hogwarts, she had never seen a Defence against the Dark Arts teacher stay for more than a year. First Year had been Professor Quirrell. Everyone had thought he was okay, a bit nervous, but alright. However, Quirrell had turned out to be a worker for You-Know-Who.

Padma had never really found out exactly how he had been defeated, but she did know that Harry, Ron and Hermione had had something to do with it.

Second Year had seen the arrival of Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, a widely publised author who had made all the witches in the school sigh every time he walked past. Lockhart, as Ron had later told her grumpily, was a fraud. He used memory charms to rid heroes of their memoiries and then chronicled their exploits as his own.

Third Year's teacher was still most people's favourite. Remus J. Lupin, was the perfect teacher in every way – apart from being a werewolf. This did not annoy Padma or any of the other Ravenclaws, but it made a difference. He had to leave.

Only last year, Hogwarts had warily greeted Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody – except that it was not really Moody. Bartemius "Barty" Crouch Junior had really been posing as Dumbledore's friend. Padma was still not familiar with all the particulars, but she did know a few things, things that were impossible to ignore, to forget. Cedric Diggory, Triwizard Champion, captain of the Hogwarts Quidditch team and Cho Chang's devoted boyfriend had died as a result of Crouch teaching at the school.

Padma shuddered and tried to forget what Ron and Dumbledore had told her, that You-Know-Who himself had something to do with Cedric's death. 

Padma shuddered and turned her thoughts to the present. It was not difficult to see why hardly anyone wanted the Defence Against The Dark Arts position. Only Severus Snape, Potions Master was after the job and as far as Padma knew, he had never managed to get it.

"Well what are you waiting for?" asked a sinister voice. "Go inside."

Padma turned to find herself looking into the chilling face of Severus Snape.

*

"You've got to be joking!" exclaimed George, utterly horrified.

"You think this is funny?" retorted Padma. She was sitting next to her twin at the Gryffindor table."But who's the new Potions Master, then?" asked Harry. Out of all of them, he was the most aghast by the news. James Potter, Harry's father, had been enemies with Snape while the two had been at school together.

"That's the worst of it," moaned Padma. "He's got _both _positions."

"What?" choked Fred. 

"But they can't have done that," said Hermione shaking her head. Although she was shocked, she was keeping her cool.

"They have," answered Padma shortly.

"But why?" Parvati said. It was hard to see whether Parvati was more annoyed about Snape getting the position or Padma invading her Gryffindor territory.

"I think it's got something to do with You-Know-Who…" said Hermione quietly.

Everyone looked at her. There was silence for a while as they considered this statement.

"Screw Voldemort!" yelled Harry, so loudly that everyone in the Great Hall turned to look at him. "He always messes everything up."

Hermione touched Harry's hand. "Come on," she whispered. She, Harry and Ron left the table.

"I hate it when they do that," said George. "Going off to discover the secret."

"The annoying thing is," continued Fred. "They're nearly always right."

Padma got up to leave the table. "Hey," said George. "Thanks for letting us know."

"No problem," she said.

"Yeah," said Fred. "Come and see us again. Ravenclaws are supposed to be clever. You can help us figure this one out."

Padma thanked him and crossed the hall to the Ravenclaw table. She wondered if Harry, Ron and Hermione knew more than they were letting on.

"Hey," said Fred to George. "Reckon she knows something?"


	3. Holloween

Before she knew it, Padma was spending a lot of time with George. She had not meant for it to happen, but then again, she was not sorry that it had. No one seemed to understand her like he did. She was discovering a new side to him. He was a great talker, wonderful entertainer, but he was a good listener as well. She listened to him too, and learned about his plans for the joke-shop, his disappointment at not being chosen to be Quidditch captain and mainly his envy of his brother.

Padma assumed that Lisa and Mandy had no problem with this, after all Mandy spent much of her time with Terry Boot and Lisa liked to hang around, but when October drew to a close she realised that they did.

"Are you guys going out or what?" Lisa asked one day out of the blue. Or rather out of the blue velvet curtains that surrounded the bed she was lying on.

"No!" groaned Padma. In the beginning, when she had thought of George the way every other girl thought of him, she had loved being asked if she was his girlfriend. But now that she knew him as one of her best friends, it was starting to irritate her. "God, Lisa, I can't believe I have to tell you this. I have to tell people I don't know this."

"Well, she has a right to ask," snapped Mandy. "You act as if you're married or something – always joined at the hip."

Padma sat up from her bed and drew the curtains back. "D'you guys have a problem with me seeing – being friends with George?" she asked. Mandy and Lisa exchanged a glance. "No, we don't," sighed Mandy, ever the diplomat. "But we're scared that you're getting in too deep. I mean, I'm sure he's really nice and everything, but he's in seventh year. He'll be leaving Hogwarts soon and you'll probably never see him again. We just don't want you to get hurt."

Padma laughed. "But I don't even like him like that." Mandy and Lisa looked at her in disbelief. "Honest," she continued. "I'm sorry if I've been spending less time with you guys."

"It's no problem," smiled Lisa.

"And I'm sorry if I snapped," apologised Mandy. "Let's forget about boys! Who needs 'em? Tell you what, why don't we have an early girls night in tomorrow, just the three of us?"

"Sounds great," smiled Padma. Then she remembered, and her face fell.

"What is it?" asked Lisa suspiciously.

"Sorry guys, George is helping me with Transfiguration tomorrow."

Mandy and Lisa exchanged a weary glance with each other before drawing their curtains around their four-posters.

"So George," began Harry choosing his words carefully. "You're pretty friendly with Padma aren't you?" George groaned.

"Don't you start as well. "I've had Fred and Lee on at me all night. 'Why don't you ask her to the Yule Ball?' No one gets it. We're **_friends."_**

"Oh no, that's not what I meant. You see, I need to speak to a Ravenclaw, to get something off my chest. Well, to clear the air – not that there's any air to clear – but, well it's about Cedric."

"Ah," said George and began listening.

"So let me get this right," said Padma. "Harry wants you, me and Cho to meet up in the Three Broomsticks this weekend. He's going to turn up. You and me will go somewhere. And he'll speak to her about Cedric?"

"That's pretty much it," said George, flicking through his copy of _Top Stick, _a racing broomstick magazine.

"But why can't he just ask her for a private word?"

"Because the last time he did that, he asked her to the Yule Ball and she was already going with Cedric. If he asks again, it'll look like he's trying it on with her. He doesn't want that, just to stop feeling guilty about what happened."

"Gotcha," said Padma. "One condition."

"How do I know this means trouble?" moaned George.

"I have to know how Cedric died as well."

*

"And then I did the _Accio_ spell and pointed at the cup. I grabbed it whilst holding onto Cedric's wrist. Then we were back here." Harry had finished telling Padma what had happened on the night that Voldemort had risen again.

Padma's eyes were wide. "I'm so sorry Harry," she whispered. "If I had known it was that bad, I would never have put you through it all again."

Harry gave her a fleeting smile. "It gets easier every time. The first time was hell, almost as bad as when it actually happened. But it's easier now. And I have to practise for when I tell Cho. Is that all you want to know?"

Padma nodded dumbly. "Then I'll see you on Saturday," he said.

"See?" said George, once Harry had left. "See why he has to get it off his chest?"

Padma nodded.

*

"Hi Cho," said Padma. Cho was alone, an act that seldom occurred. "Mind if I sit down? I'm meeting George here, but I can't see him yet."

"Sure," smiled Cho. "Take a seat."

"You meeting anyone here?" asked Padma.

"No," sighed Cho. "I like to be on my own sometimes." Padma cast her mind back to last term. Whenever she had seen Cho, in the corridors, in the Common Room, in Hogsmeade, she had always been with someone. It wasn't like her to be on her own.

For a while there was silence. Padma ordered a Butterbeer. "You didn't know Cedric, did you?" asked Cho suddenly.

"No," replied Padma quietly. "Not very well."

"He was a good guy, he didn't deserve to…" she trailed off.

Harry entered the Three Broomsticks looking nervous.

"Hi Harry," said Cho. Padma was glad that she had not needed to make the initiation.

"Hi," he mumbled. "Mind if I sit down?"

"No problem," said Cho although her voice did not hold the same warmth that it had when she had welcomed Padma.

"I can never tell you two apart," said Harry to Padma, trying not to sound like he had rehearsed his lines with her earlier. "Is it Parvati or Padma?"

"Padma," Cho answered for her. "Parvati wears a pink bracelet. Padma wears a turquoise one."

Padma was surprised that Cho had noticed. George entered the Three Broomsticks with Fred and Angelina. "There you are!" he announced to Padma. "I thought we were going to meet outside Zonkos?"

"Why would we meet outside Zonkos?" asked Padma, getting up. 

"Because I said Zonkos," said George opening the door for her.

"No, I said here!" cried Padma. They left.

"How did it go?" asked George as Harry entered the common room. Ron and Hermione were anxious. "Well…" began Harry. "She was shocked obviously. And then she cried for, like, an hour. And then she asked me how I could have ever thought she could have blamed me when she knew how friendly we were. She thanked me for telling her, because Amos Diggory and Mrs. Diggory had said that they would tell her when she was older. She also thanked me for bringing his body back and said that she knew I would have put my life at risk and saved him if I could. Then she cried some more. And more. And more. Then we said goodbye."

"That was it?" exclaimed Ron. "You didn't take advantage of her crying?"

"Oh shut up Ron!" cried Hermione. "Harry isn't low like you are."

"Thanks George," said Harry. "I feel so much better now. I was dreading the feast tomorrow. The anniversary of the Goblet of Fire."

Hermione looked up suddenly. "Can I borrow an owl someone?"

"What now?" asked Ron. 

"Yeah, it has to get there for tomorrow."

"It will probably be there by night if you send it at dawn," said George. "Where is there, by the way?"

"Bulgaria," muttered Hermione, fiddling in her bag for a quill.

"Oh I get it," taunted Ron. "It's you and Vicky's anniversary tomorrow, isn't it?"

"Chum me up to the owlery, Ron, will you?"

"Of course," said Ron. "Don't want to miss your special day!" They left.

Harry and George looked at each other. Viktor Krum, International Quidditch Star had shocked the world when he had started seeing Hermione. Ron, hadn't taken it too seriously at first – he was a little jealous but that was it. Krum would return to Bulgaria and never see Hermione again.

However, when the Grangers had allowed Hermione to go and see Krum over the Summer holidays, Ron's jealousy had kicked into overdrive.

George could tell that Harry was thinking the same thing as he was. "Has he ever said anything to you about her?" he asked.

Harry shook his head. "Never," he said. "But I know, of course."

"He's losing time," sighed George. Harry looked at him, stunned. 

"I've never heard you say anything like that."

"It's true. He's losing her."

Harry shook his head.

*

The smell of pumpkin pie filled their nostrils as the Ravenclaws entered the Great Hall. Each Halloween to date, something had happened. In First Year, a troll had been let loose. In Second Year, Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat had been petrified. In Third Year, Sirius Black, a convicted fellan, (who was now on the run from Azkaban,) had attacked Ron. Only last year the Goblet of Fire had spat out an extra name – Harry Potter's.

Padma did not want to be cynical, but as she opened her mouth to sing the school soing she could feel that something terrible was about to happen.

__

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts…" As usual George was singing at his slowest tempo.

__

"Teach us something please…" sang Padma to the tune of "All Things Bright and Beautiful"

__

"Whether we be old and bald…" Suddenly George was hit with the utmost pain near his heart and was forced to stop singing.

__

"Our brains could do with…" It felt as though a ball of spikes was attacking Padma's hearts. She stopped singing and began to cough.

__

"For now they're bare…" George was now coughing so hard that he could not breathe. Tears were coming from his eyes. He tried to call Katie's attention, but Katie did not seem to notice.

__

"So teach us something…" Padma fell to her knees. Distantly she heard someone else coughing. Why wasn't anyone paying any attention?

__

"Bring back what we forgot…" George tried to sit down , but his foot slipped and he landed on the floor. "Professor Dumbledore!"

__

"Just do your best…" The Great Hall began to swin before Padma's eyes. "Madam Pomfrey!" she called. But Madam Pomfrey was too busy singing.

__

"We'll do the rest…" George now felt like he was going to die. "Help," he called, but it was too late.__**"Fred!" **he cried, but his twin did not care.

__

"And learn til our brains all rot." That's what's going to happen to me, thought Padma, as the Great Hall's dark ceiling began to fade away. My brain is going to rot. **"Parvati!" **she yelled loudly, but just before she was dragged into unconsciousness she realised that her twin did not care.


	4. Disaster, Despair & Disbelief

You know the deal: hardly any of this belongs to me.  
  
Disaster, Despair, Disbelief  
  
  
She opened her eyes, but still saw nothing but black. She felt the darkness envelope her and saw nothing but despair, felt nothing but fear. She heard someone shivering beside her and tried to turn to see who it was, but found she was chained to the damp, rough ground.   
"Bugger, it's cold," muttered a familiar voice.  
"George?" she called, gingerly.  
"Padma? Is that you?" came the reply from the emptiness.  
"Where the hell are we?" she asked in a high voice.  
"Dunno. Can you move?"  
Padma tried to shrug her shoulders but found she could not. "No," she replied dryly.   
"I think we're under some sort of Charm. Hold on, I'll see if I can reach my wand - "His optimistic voice abruptly turned into a shriek of utmost terror.   
"I wouldn't do that again if I were you." Out of the depths of the unknown came a voice that chilled Padma's bones. "No, Mr Weasley, I wouldn't recommend reaching for your wand."  
"Who are you?" George asked in a hoarse voice. He was clutching his heart.  
"Let's just say I'm someone who knows a lot more about you than you do. And you Miss Patil. I've kept a close eye on you both for years, but soon I won't need to anymore."  
The voice turned into a cackle, then it was gone.  
  
"George?" Padma called eventually. There was no reply.  
  
ÒPadma? You okay?Ó George asked. He was not answered.  
  
"George? George, where are you?" Alone in the darkness, she began to cry. Someone flicked a light switch on and drew back the curtains of her four-poster.  
  
ÒOh my God, whatÕs happened to her?Ó It was all his fault. If only he had been able to reach his wand quicker. He got his wand out and muttered ÒLumos.Ó The light of his wand revealed his four-poster bed in Gryffindor Tower. He could hear Lee Jordan and Fred snoring.  
  
"I can't believe it!" exclaimed Lisa. "Even in your dreams, you talk about him!"  
"I - I don't understand," stammered Padma. "Where did he go?"  
"Probably back to Gryffindor Tower," said Mandy, rolling her eyes. "You've only known him a couple of months - can't expect him to sleep with you yet."  
"Not George," snapped Padma impatiently. "The voice."  
Lisa and Mandy looked at each other. "You've had a bad dream," said Mandy gently. "It must have been tough, fainting in front of everyone."  
"Listen - you've got to listen - " began Padma.  
"No, you've got to sleep," interrupted Lisa firmly. She drew back Padma's curtains and Mandy turned off the lights.  
"But after I fainted - I mean lost consciousness - George and I were taken to a cell and -"  
"We don't really need to hear any more of your erotic fantasy," yawned Mandy.  
"You fainted, and I brought you up here," said Lisa. "Good Night."  
  
As soon as the morning light streamed into Gryffindor Tower, George woke his brother up. He had not slept all night, and was dying to know what explanation Fred could have of the night before. ÒWhat is it?Ó Fred asked grogilly. Òi have something really important to tell you...Ó Ten minutes later, after George had told his brother the night beforeÕs events, Fred was looking very solemn. ÒIÕve got something important to tell you too,Ó he said. ÒYeah?Ó asked George interested. ÒDo you know anything about what happened?Ó Fred took a deep breath. ÒIÕm sorry I was made Quidditch Captain and you werenÕt.Ó George was taken aback. Had Fred not heard what he had just told him? ÒWhat?Ó he asked. ÒAnd I know, youÕre just as good a player as I am and everything...Ó ÒFred, hold on, canÕt we talk about this later? I mean, this is really important.Ó Fred sighed again and spoke to George like he would have spoken to Ginny. ÒI realise what youÕre doing, you know. And it isnÕt the right way to go about it.Ó ÒGo about what?Ó George asked gobsmacked. ÒWell itÕs attention, isnÕt it? ThatÕs what you want. This episode seems like the perfect way to...Ó Fred trailed off because George was looking like he was about to be sick. ÒSo you think IÕm making the whole thing up, do you?Ó Fred snapped. ÒOh come on George, what the hell am I supposed to think? Last night you pretend to faint, have to be carried up here, and this morning you come up with this crap...Ó ÒSHUT UP!Ó yelled George. ÒYou think I find this funny?Ó ÒYou find nothing funny anymore! ThatÕs your problem!Ó ÒAnd yours is that you never take anything seriously!Ó George threw on some clothes and left in a hurry. He had to find Padma. "What you doing here?" asked Parvati. She was facing Padma in the bedroom that she shared with Lavender Brown and Hermione.  
"Listen, something happened last night," said Padma breathlessly.  
"I heard about you fainting yesterday," said Parvati.  
Didn't do much to help though, did you?  thought Padma.  
"I didn't really faint, I had a sort of attack..."  
"Look if this is the same crap you fed Lisa and Mandy this morning then don't expect me to buy it."  
Padma's mouth fell open. She was shocked that her best friends that firstly told her sister and secondly, that Parvati had believed them.  
"What did they say?'" Padma asked.  
"They said that you were finally showing signs of being jealous of me."  
"What, and you believed them?"  
"Well, what am I supposed to think? You always wanted to get into Gryffindor, and now you're using George as an excuse to hang around with us all the time - "  
"I can't believe I'm hearing this!" exclaimed Padma. "Do you realise what you're saying?"  
"Oh get lost!" yelled Parvati.  
Padma stood still. "Fine," she said. "It's obvious that you've forgotten everything we used to share."  
She ran down into the common room to find George.  
  
"Did I dream it?" George asked as soon as he found Padma. "There was a cell - "  
"And a voice-"  
"Fred doesn't believe me."  
"Neither does Parvati."  
"But it did happen, right? I mean we can't both have dreamt it."  
"It happened alright. But we can't do anything on our own. We need to speak to someone."  
"But who?"  
  
"Hey guys." Padma and George spun round to see that Harry, Ron and Hermione had just entered the common room.   
"Are you okay?" asked Hermione. "You took a nasty fall yesterday, both of you."  
"Yeah, we're fine now," said Padma. "Only got a little problem..."  
"Anything we can help with?" asked Harry casually. George glanced at Padma.  
"Actually yes..." 


	5. The Two Yule Balls

  
Harry, Ron and Hermione had promised Padma and George that they would do all they could to help. However, there did not seem to be much urgency in them discovering anything.  
Since Halloween, nothing had happened to either twin, and since they both had a lot of work to do (Padma's O.W.L.s and George's N.E.W.T.s were coming up) they almost forgot about the incident entirely.The only thing that kept reminding them waswhen they had to see their twins.  
Padma did not have such a hard time; she only had to see Parvati when their mother sent some samosas from home to them both. She had came to a mutual agreement with Lisa and Mandy about not mentioning Halloween and was fairly content. However, George was having a miserable time. It was bad enough that his best friend was completely ignoring him, but because of Fred's captaincy, most of the Quidditch team had turned on him. Only Harry and the new sixth year Keeper would have anything to do with George.  
"Why don't you just say sorry?" asked Harry during one practice.  
"Because I'm not sorry!" snapped George, his temper as fiery as his hair. "I was only telling the truth and if he's too egotistical to realise that this is nothing to do with him, then-" Harry interrupted. "It is to do with him. He's your brother..." He trailed off. George saw Harry's green eyes glint with discovery. "It is to do with him. Oh course it is!"  
"Well he's not acting like my brother," began George.  
"I don't mean that!" cried Harry excitedly, hopping around on his Firebolt.   
"Harry," Fred yelled. "The point is to stay on the broom, not fall off it."   
Harry repositioned himself on his invisible cushion. "What have you and Padma got in common?" he asked George quietly. George was taken aback by the sudden change of subjects.  
"Quite a lot actually." He drifted off and talked for a long time until Harry was forced to interrupt. "You're twins, you idiot. _Identical _twins. And I think that's why whoever this person is, is after you."  
George was quiet for a time, allowing this idea to sink in. It was only when a Bludger came flying towards Harry that George was forced out of his reverie and hit the ball towards Fred with surprising strength. "But why us two?" he asked. "Why not Fred and Parvati? I mean, they don't know each other, they wouldn't be able to talk to each other."  
Harry shook his head. "They're in the same house. It's more likely that they'd know each other than you and Padma." George kept silent. "You're going to have to work out where Padma's going to be over the holidays."  
George looked up. "Why?"  
"Because it's the first chance that you two will be separated. You're prime target."  


*  


"How are you spending Christmas?"  
Christmas. Hmmm. What with the pile of work that Padma had to get through as well as worrying about the unknown person, she had not noticed the weeks speed by. So when George asked her how she was spending Christmas, she did not really have an answer ready. However, December was upon them, if not fully proven by the layer of snow surrounding the castle, then by Raving Robin (the Ravenclaw ghost) singing his upbeat rendition of "Good King Wenceslas."  
Padma had two choices - she could go to India with her parents, or she could stay at Hogwarts. The Patils did not celebrate Christmas as a rule. Quite apart from not believing that Jesus Christ was the son of God, they also hated the commercialisation that came with the celebration. That was partly why she did not want to stay at Hogwarts. Then again, she did not want to go to India. The wizards there were very old fashioned; they still charmed snakes. Also, there was the Yule Ball... She decided to answer a question with a question. "Why?"  
George quickly informed her of Harry's theory. Padma felt like laughing out loud at the thought of a psycopath wanting to capture two identical twins, but bit her lip instead.  
"So you think we should stick together this Christmas?" she asked resisting the urge to grin.   
"Yes," said George, solemnly.  
"Is Fred going home?" asked Padma. George shrugged.  
"It doesn't make a difference to me. But he mentioned something about staying with the Johnsons. Where's Parvati going?"  
"India," muttered Padma. "Well I'll stay then. Just don't force me to sing any carols."  
  
*  
  
_"Chanter!" _ George whispered to his wand. Instantly Padma's mouth jerked open.   
"We wish you a Merry Christmas!" she sang shooting dark looks towards George. Harry, Ron and George dissolved into laughter and ordered five more tankards of Butterbeer. The Three Broomsticks had been decorated with tinsel and glitter. A magnificent Christmas tree stood in the corner lavished with flashing coloured lights and a star that winked at them.  
Hermione frowned. She whipped out her wand and muttered the counterspell. It was Christmas Day and everyone - including Padma - was feeling merry. The Yule Ball was to be held that night - everyone had decided not to partner anyone, just to dance with as many people as possible.   
"We'd better get a move on," said Hermione glancing at the clock.   
"Yes," said Padma, rising.  
Harry, Ron and George looked at each other. It was only four o'clock and the Yule Ball was at half past seven. "Move," Hermione hissed.  
"Girls," Ron muttered as he followed Hermione and Padma.  
  
*  
It seemed strange to be separated from Fred on Christmas, thought George as he made the final adjustments to his appearance. For the first time in his life he had not woken up to exchange presents with Fred. Only one Weasley jumper had arrived from home. Still, he would have to get used to it. After all, he could not spend all his life tied to Fred.  
_"Concealero" _he muttered to his wand which cleared his face of a few of his freckles. He had used "Gerald's Gel" to make his fiery fringe spike out straight.  
"Come on!" cried his mirror. "Give me a smile!" George grinned widely. He would show them tonight: he was just as cool as Fred.  
  
*  
She looked stunning; there was no denying it. Of course, the scarlet dress robes that clinged to her figure had cost quite a few Galleons, but it was worth it. From her wrists to her elbows she wore gold bangles. Her hair was up in coils. She had no make-up: she did not need it. Padma smiled at her reflection which revealed a beautiful young woman. She would show them tonight: she was as much of a stunner as Parvati.  
  
*  
George entered the Hall, lit only by multi-coloured flames from a million candles. Hermione smiled at him. Once again it hit him how gorgeous she could look when she made the effort. Ron was looking much happier than he had last year partly due to his designer dress robes. Harry grinned and waved. Where was Padma? He sauntered over to his friends. "Looking stunning tonight Mademoiselle Granger," George said putting on a sophisticated accent and kissing her on the hand. Hermione giggled.  
He turned to Ron. "You need not look so distraught, my dear brother. I dare say Mademoiselle Granger will save a dance for you too."  
Harry and George were the only ones who laughed because Ron became embarrassed and Hermione, to save Ron the humiliation, ignored George.  
"It's good to hear you laugh again," said Harry. It's good that people find me funny again thought George. It was twenty to eight. "Where's Padma?"  
  
*  
Padma entered the Hall, lit only by multi-coloured flames from a million candles. Hermione smiled at her. Once again, it hit Padma how gorgeous Hermione could look when she made the effort. Ron was staring at Hermione in awe. Harry's glasses steamed up at the sight of Padma. Where was George? Like a model on the catwalk, she gracefully walked towards her friend.  
"You look amazing," said Hermione. She was only being courteous, but Padma knew it to be true anyway. "As do you," she replied.  
Harry and Ron mumbled something to them about looking nice. Then they asked them to dance. It was twenty to eight. "Where's George?"  
*  
  
  
A/N Do you know what is going on?


	6. Side

Chapter 5: Parted

"Where's Padma?" George repeated. Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged quizzical looks. "Who?" asked Ron.

Taken aback, George let out a quick breath, which could not even have passed for a chuckle. "Ha ha," he said sarcastically. "Very funny." The three continued to look bemused.

"Isn't she feeling well?" George asked Hermione. "Could you run up to her dorm and check?"

"Where's her dorm?" asked Hermione, without the faintest trace of a smile on her face. George's jaw dropped. "You went there yesterday."

Now Hermione smiled. "I was with you yesterday George."

"Oh, maybe she stays in George's room," suggested Ron. The three of them fell about laughing. Harry caught sight of George's distraught face. "Sorry," coughed Harry. "What's her surname? We could look her up on the school roll."

George felt like punching him. There was no choice but to play along. "Patil," he said and waited patiently for what he knew was about to come.

"Patil?" asked Hermione. "Oh I get it! You mean Parvati, don't you? That's why you wanted me to go find her. The girl in my dorm, you mean? Well, Parvati's gone to India for Christmas."

George could not believe that Hermione of all people was tormenting him. "Oh shut up!" he snapped. "You know she hates being treated as if she doesn't exist."

Harry, Ron and Hermione stopped smiling. "George, stop it," Ron reprimanded. "This joke has gone far enough."

"I'm not joking!" George bellowed. His voice echoed around the hall. Professor Dumbledore looked up.

"George…" began Hermione touching his arm. "I don't think you're feeling very well. Perhaps you should lie down."

"I'm fine!" yelled George, moving away from them. "It's you lot who are dellusional."

Hermione buffed out her chest, which under the circumstances looked very flattering. (Ron's pupils, at any rate began to dilate.) "George, as a Prefect of Hogwarts…"

George interrupted. "You have the power invested in you to send me to bed. Blah, blah, blah, shut up Miss know-it-all Granger." Hermione actually looked as if she were about to cry.

Ron walked over to George threateningly. Even though George was two years his senior, Ron towered over his brother. "Leave her alone," he growled. Harry held Ron back.

"But- but," George protested. "Where is she?"

"I think you'd better leave George," said Harry quietly. Ron looked furious, Harry looked disappointed and Hermione looked as though she would dampen her dress robes by the water of tears.

"I hope to God this is a dream," he muttered as he climbed the staircase. He wanted to find Padma badly, but he could tell that Harry, Ron and Hermione had not been joking: they seriously could not recollect knowing her. He collapsed on his bed. Inspiration hit him. He opened his drawer where he kept his photo album. At the Three Broomsticks, he Harry, Ron, Hermione and Padma had had a photo taken. There it was except that there was an empty seat where Padma should have been.

They did not reply, so she echoed her question. "Where's George?" Harry, Ron and Hermione glanced at each other confused. "Who?" asked Ron.

Padma smiled. She had expected something of the kind. "George," she said, louder, so that wherever he was hiding he was bound to hear her. Harry shook his head bemused. "Who do you mean?" asked Hermione. 

"George," Padma said to Ron. "Your brother!"

"Do you mean Bill?" asked Ron. Padma shook her head. She was perfectly willing to play along if it made George happy. Perhaps he was hiding behind the Christmas tree? 

"Then do you mean Charlie?" asked Harry, perplexed. Padma stifled a laugh and shook her head again. "Percy," said Hermione. "You _must_ mean Percy."

"No," cried Padma in delight.

"Fred," the three of them said together. Padma shook her head once more. He must be hiding under an invisibility cloak, she thought. It had always been rumoured that Harry had one, after all.

"Then unless Ginny's had a sex change," said Ron. "I don't have any more brothers."

"Okay, okay, I give in!" shrieked Padma. "Where is he?"

"Who?"

"George!"

"Who's George?"

It was starting to tire her now. "George Weasley. Fiery Hair. Well built. Shorter than Ron, but taller than Harry and Hermione. Seventh Year. Beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team."

Ron shook his head. "Call us your friend, Padma? His name's Fred."

"Stop it, now. You know how he hates being compared to him."

"What's she on about?" asked Harry.

"I mean it!"

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other uncertainly. In the end, Hermione took charge. "Padma, as a Prefect…"

"You have the power to send me to bed… I know the deal. George! Just come out will you and stop mucking about?"

"D'you think we had better get Professor Vector?" Ron whispered to Harry.

"I heard that!" Padma snapped. "This isn't funny any more!"

"Yeah," replied Harry, ignoring her.

"Forget it!" she yelled. "I can make my own way to bed." She stomped off to the dormitory forgetting all about grace and elegance. This had been her special night and George had ruined it for her. How could he have done it? Once in her room, she got out the _Daily Prophet _newspaper clipping she had about George, planning to yell at the photo of him in Egypt. There it was: except that there were only eight Weasleys. George was missing.


	7. Close your Eyes

George drummed his fingers on the table, nervously waiting for any sign of Harry, Ron or Hermione to tell them more about Padma. It was still early true, especially as those present in the school would have slept by two AM at the earliest, but that did not stop him from becoming anxious that his brother and two friends might have disappeared as well.   
Would they have though? It was true that this unknown dark force seemed to be targeting him and Padma. Would they go as far as hurting his brother? Surely _Harry Potter_ himself had to be at risk. George shuddered to thinkYou-Know-Who could be behind him all. He knew that You-Know-Who had risen again, after all. The Entrance to the Great Hall opened. It was not Harry, Ron orHermione. George sighed in sheer relief and the person he was facing did as well.  
You first, Padma said, sitting down at the table. What happened last night?  
*  
You thought it was a joke? asked George choking on his breakfast. How could you ever think that I could joke about something like that?  
How indeed? asked Padma wryly, thinking about the time George had sent Harry a toilet seat as a get-well present. But did you really make Hermione almost cry? she continued, awed.  
Yeah, I can tell you , it would have made that mascara run like anything...  
So are they going to be pissed off with you or apologetic that they sent me to bed? Padma continued.  
George shrugged. They better get down here soon. I'm getting sick to death of waiting for them.  
What do you reckon we really did last night? asked Padma.  
Harry, Ron and Hermione entered just as George was cursing their tardiness. Hermione caught sight of George and Padma and whispered something to Harry and Ron. Harry burst out laughing.   
I don't want to know, answered George groaning.  
said Ron seating himself down at the table. What do you know? My dear brother and Padma!  
Padma and George exchanged wary looks.  
Um guys, said George awkwardly, I can't really remember what happened last night...  
Ron spat out the apple juice that was in his mouth. What none of it? asked Harry, astonished. George shook his head firmly. Harry and Ron looked at Padma. Don't you remember either?  
After a quick but painful kick under the table from George, Padma replied Hermione looked baffled - a seldom occurence. You didn't have that many Bacardi Wheezers last night... she said slowly.   
How many did I have? asked Padma, shocked at herself. (She did not drink as a rule and a single Wheezer would have made her sick with coughing. )  
Only about two, muttered Hermione. Maybe you two need to see Madam Pomfrey.  
George clapped his hand to his forehead. No we don't, we just need to know what happened last night!  
But if you can't remember - then maybe you have some form of amnesia. Don't know what could have brought it on though.  
Will you just tell us what happened? demanded Padma.  
Harry and Ron looked at Hermione. She guessed at what they were thinking. Why me? replied Ron, satisfied with his reasoning. Hermione adjusted her robes.   
Well I can tell you up to a point. We arrived about half seven, all of us. The band was playing. Then we started dancing and... She trailed off.  
Padma gulped. She had a funny feeling she knew what was coming. Go on, encouraged George, who had evidently not caught on. Then what happened?  
Well you two - um - well... Padma closed her eyes and prepared the worst.   
  
You started kissing.   
*   
Padma, standing in the Library, fiddled with her hair, distractedly, as random ideas kept flying in and out of her head. They had not told Harry, Ron or Hermione what had really happened to them both. They had been too distracted by what Harry, Ron and Hermione claimed had taken place. Could it really have happened? Or was the question _would_ it have happened if they had been together? Was that why they had been separated, to prevent it? Perhaps the most important question of all was how George felt about it. He had blushed and his mouth had kept opening and closing, to the effect that he had looked like a mutant red fish, so it was obvious that he showed some emotion. More to the point, how did she feel about it? At the beginning of the year she would have been over the moon, but now - now was different.  
She shook her head. There were more important issues to be addressed. She took a thick book off one of the shelves.   
*  
_Dear Fred, _George began. He paused and chewed on his quill. He did not know quite how to phrase what had happened to him since Fred had left Hogwarts. Why was he even writing a letter to Fred anyway? His brother had not believed him about Halloween: why should he believe him now? They had made peace before Fred had left, but it had been grudgingly done. Both brothers were stubborn - it was a Weasley trait. However, George usually said he was sorry, even when he was not and had no reason to be. This is not going to be one of those times, George thought resolutely. Thinking thus, he screwed up the parchment he was writing on and went down to the library where Harry and Ron were playing chess.  
That thing - with Padma - as far as you're concerned it never happened, right? I mean, she's nice and everything, but no. No, I would never go out with her.  
Harry and Ron shrugged. George left, relief flowing through his bones. Perhaps it was lucky that he did not notice the crouched figure concealing itself in the Restricted Section. it muttered holding back the tears.  
*  
_Push, darling, encouraged her husband. She shot him evil looks and continued taking deep breaths.In Ward 7, Doctor Jones sighed and prepared to remove the head. Not surprisingly it had tiny red hair like the other three children that Doctor Jones had delivered for this particularly family. Doctor Jones sighed as the baby's legs appeared: it was another boy. It's a boy, he announced.   
The woman looked disappointed. It looked like Doctor Jones would be delivering for the family in another nine months. The nurse washed the blood off the shrieking baby and handed him to the mother. You were going to call her Frieda, weren't you? asked Doctor Jones wryly. He took off his plastic gloves and threw them away. Or Gina, from Georgina, replied the mother softly.  
Can I? asked the father. He held his arms out and the child was given to him. He had been there every time and still the feeling of fatherhood never felt fresher than it did at that moment in time. Let's stick with Frieda, shall we? How about Frederick?  
The patient shook her head.   
Fred, I like that -   
  
A piercing scream came from the patient. I - can - feel - contractions! she exclaimed. Doctor Jones shook his head. There had been no extra fetus on the scan: she was not supposed to have twins. Nevertheless, he put on a fresh pair of gloves and examined the patient. Good God... This can't be happening, he muttered. Never in all my time... He changed tack. Nurse, we're going again!  
The husband stood back, aghast. I never knew you were going to have twins!  
Inbetween his wife's deep breaths he made out Nether did I! Doctor Jones did not bother going through the routine again: the mother knew what she was doing - it was her fifth time. The red hair appeared, and the body, and now the legs...  
It's a boy, announced Jones. Molly shook her head. I was never supposed to have...  
It doesn't matter now, said Arthur. What did you say you wanted to call her? Georgina? George will do fine.  
Later when the cleaners were washing the sheets, they discovered a strange green symbol on the sheets of the bed in Ward 7. A snake was protuding out of the jaw of a large skull. _   


  


*   
  
**He looked at his watch and adjusted his tie. Two hours, surely it must be over by now? Then he heard a groan of pain and winced. It was not custom for men to be present at these ceremonies. It was enough that he was missing an important lecture for this: waiting outside a Gineacology ward.   
You can come in now, Professor, said a Nurse. He straightened his posture and entered. His wife was holding their child in her arms. It's a girl, she said quietly. His face fell. I know you wanted a boy - I know you wanted to name it after yourself - but we can try again.  
he muttered and took the girl - his daughter - in his arms.** **She can still be named after me, can she not? he whispered rocking her gently.   
His wife looked doubtful. What's the female version of your name? she asked. He could not answer her because at that moment his wife clutched her stomach and called for a doctor. Doctor Ross sauntered back in. You're probably experiencing afterpains... he began casually, but stopped abruptly once he saw his patient's condition. he cried calling for the Nurse. We have a case of twins!  
asked the husband. We were informed that -   
I don't care what you were informed, said Doctor Ross as he prepared for the delivery. Can't you see that your wife has gone into labour again?  
The husband toyed with the idea. Perhaps he would be blessed with a son, now? In his excitement, he forgot that men were not supposed to be present at such ceremonies and held on to his wife's hand, encouraging her.  
The labour did not take long: it was over within a few minutes. said Doctor Ross as Becky cut them umbillocal cord. You have a healthy girl?  
A girl? asked the husband incredulously. Another one?'  
replied Doctor Ross, bemused. It does happen. In fact, in this case, you have identical daughters.  
Two daughters? One was going to be hard enough to bring up - but two?   
You were saying? asked Priyanka, who seemed over the moon about having given birth to two daughters.  
The eldest is to be named Parvati, after me, replied Parvez. What do you wish to call the second?  
Priyanka thought briefly back to her Hogwarts days when she had encountered a large black labrador who had somehow communicated to her that his name was Padfoot.  
she breathed.  
Later, once Doctor Ross and the four Patils had left the ward; Becky found an interesting emerald symbol on the sheets where Priyanka had given birth. A snake was protuding out of the jaw of a large skull.**  



	8. Coming to terms

CHAPTER 8  
  
_We are such stuff that dreams are made of._  
Heavy Breathing. Perspiration pouring down her. Hair soppy, hair soaking, body shaking, body shivering. Disbelief. Unacceptance. Fear.  
*  
_You have but slumbered here, while this vision did appear.  
_Gasping. Hands shaking. Sweat drenching his forehead. Head shaking, head splitting. Trepidation. Terror. Fear.  
*  
It was only a dream. Yeah, she had only had a fucking nightmare, but it had been so vivid.   
  
It was only a dream. Uh-huh, but it had still scared the shit out of him.  
*  
  
Their eyes met. Was Padma imagining it, or had the sea-blueness of George's eyes faded slightly from the previous evening? asked George as way of greeting.  
Padma shook her head.  
Did you... George stuttered, his confidence gone. He changed tack. I had a strange dream last night. Padma started and looked up at him. His arms clutched around his body to steady himself. He did not look at her but concentrated on the table. She could tell what he was visualising. It was about me and Frederick being -   
Padma whispered, finished for him. She was beginning to see a pattern now: a dark connection that linked her to George. In her angst, she almost wished she had never sat at the Gryffindor table that September morning, never pretended to be Parvati, never got to know George.   
Did you have it too? George asked, his eyes bleary. In his terror, he had seemed to have lost ten years of his age. Padma knew she would have to be braver than him, to help him through his pain, but still shivered each time she remembered what she had seen...  
she said. But I saw Parvati and myself being born.  
And you weren't supposed to be born either? asked George throatily.  
mouthed Padma holding back her tears. And they wanted a son...  
They wanted a daughter! exclaimed George. And then, there was... He stopped, his eyes watery.  
Padma nodded slowly. There was. She lost control, thinking about it - her strange existence - her father's disappointment - the Dark Mark. She dissolved into tears - tears of anger, tears of pain. George held her as his own eyes burned.   
  
_I will not feel I will not  
feel until  
I have to._  
  
*  
Should I tell Fred?  
There was a long silence. He _is _your brother.  
Is he? I don't know anymore. Am I even George Weasley?  
You are to me. Padma considered before continuing. I'm not telling Parvati. It's different with you and Fred - you live together at school. Parvati wouldn't understand.  
Should we tell Harry?  
Padma did not hesitate. We're going to have to. He's always the one that's... involved in that sort of thing... She shivered as she thought of James and Lily Potters' death, the Philosopher's stone, the Chamber of Secrets and most recently Cedric Diggory's death.   
gulped George. I'll tell Harry and Ron.  
*  
  
So he told them. Hermione said that it was a personal matter between family and that she should not be present, but George begged her to stay. He described what had happened at the Yule Ball first, how he and Padma had somehow been separated from the world that they lived in. Then he told them of the dreams, the nightmares.  
But that - that's utter crap! exclaimed Ron, in a high, false voice. Tell him Hermione! But even Hermione, who did not believe in Divination and the Grim was looking grave. She did not reply.   
I've had weird dreams, muttered Harry.There was one I had when I just arrived in 1st Year... about Snape.  
What happened? asked Ron.  
Doesn't matter...  
Honestly, you've got nothing to worry about, continued Ron. He forced a fake smile.   
*  
George sat tensely in his dorm, nervously awaiting the return of Fred and Lee. Term started the next day. He hoped that Fred would have made peace with him. He was still wondering whether to tell him when George heard mouths gradually ascend the stairs. See you in the morning, Weasley! yelled someone. George sighed and waited for the door to open.  
*  
Oh hello, said Hermione trying her best to act natural. How was Christmas?  
grinned Lavender.  
said Parvati, throwing herself onto her bed.  
said Hermione unsure how to take this. Padma asked me to tell you to go and see her.  
Parvati's face lightened. Good. I have to give her some stuff from Mum. She bounded out of the room, renewed with energy.  
Lavender frowned. When did they make up?  
shrugged Hermione. But I'm glad they have.  
Down the stairs, through the Common-room, past the Fat Lady, down the stairs, past the Great Hall, through the Ravenclaw Common-room and up the stairs ran Parvati. She paused at her sister's door, then knocked. Come in! called three voices simultaneously. Mandy, Lisa and Padma were lying on their beds laughing at some joke. As Mandy and Lisa caught sight of Parvati they signalled to each other, waved at the twins and left.  
How was Christmas? they asked in unison.  
Sorry, you first, said Padma. It was like they had never met and were starting over again.  
Crap. Although my Urdu improved. You?  
Yeah, it was alright.  
I'm sorry, they said together.  
  
*  
Fred grinned. George breathed a sigh of relief. He had forgiven him. No pretend apology was necessary. Yeah, I'm fine, he replied.  
You're obviously talking to me now, then? asked Fred, a smile playing about his lips. George's eyes widened. But it was you who -   
Bullshit, George, laughed Fred. _You_ were ignoring me! Aint that right Lee?  
Lee, after fiddling with his dreadlocks for a while, left. continued Fred. Forget that. You know our eighteenth birthday?  
Yes, I think I remember, thought George irritated, but he simply nodded.  
Well, I asked Mum if we could have a joint party and what do you know? She said yes! Nice of you to consult me about it, thought George but again all he said was Oh right. It sounded like fun, anyway. Time to try out the joke-shop goodies he had come up with... and inform the guinea-pigs that George had designed them.  
Well anyway, said Fred. Coming down to the Common Room? George nodded.  
Might as well. They walked, not ran as they were accustomed to doing. So we'll work out the invite list later, yeah?  
Invite list? asked Fred incredulously. But we know who we're inviting don't we? I mean, apart from all the Gryffindors, who else would we invite?  
*  
A party? awed Padma. The envelope had been slipped under her door. It was addressed to all three of the fifth-year Ravenclaw girls but it was quite obvious that Mandy and Lisa had only been asked as a courteousy.  
  


FRED AND GEORGE'S 18th BIRTHDAY BASH  
  
To whom it may concern (in this case Padma Patil, Amanda Brocklehurst and Lisa Turpin.)  
  
Get ready for what is possibly going to be the event of the century! Messrs. Frederick and George Weasley (Creators of weasley's wizarding wheezes limited) are celebrating adulthood in style! Grab your wands and set off on your broomsticks!  
  
WHEN: April 21st, 8 til Late  
WHERE: The Burrow  
  


All of a sudden, Lisa and Mandy had forgotten their jealousy of George and began to praise him. Padma was a bit unnerved. George had been so nervous a few days ago - did he really want a party? Still, April _was _a long time away...everything would be forgotten by then.   
  
*  
Eighteen. Hmm. Adulthood. George found himself casting his mind back over his childhood, how Fred had broken Ron's broomstick when Fred and George had been six, how excited his mother had been when Bill was made Head Boy, how proud George had been when Charlie had been Quidditch Captain, how he and Fred had closed their eyes and run into Platform 9 and 3/4, how they had met Lee Jordan stepping onto the train, how Hagrid had taken them across the lake, how they had fared the Sorting....  
  
_Weasley, Frederick! Professor McGonagall's voice managed to fill the hall even though she had not used the Sonorus spell. George gave his brother a nudge and Fred bounded up to the platform. He picked up the hat and put it on his head. George saw Charlie and Percy wave at Fred from the Gryffindor table. Bill, Head Boy, had to sit next to Dumbledore. The hat opened its rip and cried Fred stood up, grinning and went to join Charlie and Percy, who were applauding. Please, George thought as he walked up the platform, let me be in Gryffindor too. He picked up the hat gingerly and placed it on his head.  
OH MY.... thought the hat. OH MY...  
Oh your what? thought George.  
Well, I've sorted plenty of Weasleys in my time, but never had to... Oh my.  
Never had to what? asked George, panicking.  
Well, you're very clever, but I'm afraid I can't put you in Ravenclaw.  
What's this about Ravenclaw? asked George fretting. I want to be in Gryffindor please.  
But I'm afraid you can't, you see. You're too... cunning. Not really a spur of the moment person.  
But I am! cried George. I'm very spur-of-the-moment!  
And you're not really loyal enough to be in Hufflepuff...  
No! I want to be in Gryffindor!  
We can't always get what we want. Slytherin, it is.  
Not Slytherin, no! My Mum would kill me.  
She might not, suggested the hat, but he sounded doubtful.  
Look, you don't know my mum, okay! cried George exasperated with the inanimate object resting on his head.   
Oh, but I do, whispered the hat. I know more about you than you possibly could. Go in Gryffindor, if you want lionheart. But it's our decisions that make us who we are, not our houses. GRYFFINDOR!  
  
  
_A/N : Hello. Never had one of these before. Thought I better let you know how much I appreciate your reviews with special thanks to Shanchan (my first ever review) Stranger With My Face, Morrighan, Lucky Yuy and Draco Malfoy, Emily, Al (my favourite author), Jenneigh, radamof, Hermione Williams, Madhuri (Ap kesi hai?) Ginny :), magical little me, kiana 1488, TDC311, Hermione L. Granger, Ron's Babe, Cappie, Yarn, Princess Katrina (who is coming up with really good theories) College girl, angelet, quirky babe, carefoam, Sreya, water nymph and not forgetting the digger Heather, Hazel (hope I can come tonight) and the mother of Drama Katherine.  



	9. Memory Lanes

Chapter 9: Memory Lane  
  
A/N: I am going to change history a bit, now. Please do not (in your lovely reviews) tell me that I have altered the past - I already know this.  
  
  
**The last of the thinning steam revealed the banner _Platform 9 3/4, _a sign that thirteen-year old George Weasley was well accustomed to seeing. He walked over to his twin brother Fred who was in the small crowd of third-year Gryffindors that was forming around their best friend Lee Jordan. What's up? asked George.  
Lee's been claiming he's got a pet spider, said Katie Bell scornfully.  
It's a tarantula, corrected Lee.  
As if! cried Alicia Spinnet.  
I do, said Lee casually. But I don't want to let it out here.  
Oh give us a look, Lee, go on! moaned George.  
Lee opened the box he was carrying. The thick, hairy leg that poked out was enough to make the girls scream. George smiled at Angelina in terror, then shook himself for being a masochist.  
Ron'll be scared shitless! exclaimed Fred in delight. George smiled as he remember how Ron's phobia of spiders had come about: when Fred had been six he had turned Ron's teddy-bear into a spider as punishment for breaking Fred's toy broomstick.  
Hold on, said Lee remembering the Weasley siblings. Ron's your younger brother, isn't he?  
Fred and George nodded simultaneously. Starting this year? asked Alicia.  
said Fred. He doesn't know how he's going to be sorted yet, though.  
Well no-one does, do they? asked Angelina. But he's bound to be in Gryffindor.  
grinned Fred. I don't mean that. He doesn't know about the Sorting Hat.  
continued George. I told him he had to wrestle a troll.  
The group fell about laughing. We'd better get moving, said Katie.  
Yeah, before Ron comes to join us, agreed Fred.  
They clambered aboard _The Hogwarts Express. _Behind them, a small, skinny boy with messy black hair and glasses was attempting to scramble onto the train with a suitcase. Want a hand? asked Fred, once he had dumped his own trunk.  
Yes please, panted the boy.  
Oy, George, yelled Fred in his brother's ear. The Weasleys lifted the hefty trunk and placed it beside theirs. Then George offered his hand to the boy, who accepted and was lifted onto the train.  
said the boy, pushing his fringe away from his forehead. What happened next could not be explained by George in the next four years. A lightning bolt fired from the boy's forehead and hit George with excruciating pain. He was struck down onto the floor. He waited for Fred to help. Fred said instead. Are you?  
asked the boy.  
He is, isn't he? asked Fred. George opened his eyes blearily and saw that Fred was talking to him. George got to his feet and looked at the boy's head. A thin scar had been the thing that had attacked him. George nodded, shaking. He is?  
asked the boy confused.  
_Harry Potter,_ they chorused.  
Oh, him, said the boy. I mean, yes, I am. He blushed.  
Fred, George, called their mother. George looked at Harry Potter one more time before turning away and was pleased to find that this time, he had no averse reaction to the Boy who Lived.  
*  
They ushered their way into The Great Hall. George could make out Ron's face in the Sorting queue. He was standing behind Harry Potter, his eyes fixed on the hat.   
yelled McGonagall. A boy with a scrawny rat-like face was sorted into Slytherin.  
Patil, Padma! McGonagall cried.  
A short asian girl with silky black hair walked to the platform and nervously put the hat on top of her plaits. George waited, wondering what was taking the hat so long to decide...  
  
Oh my God, not again! moaned the hat.  
Padma had promised herself not to lose her temper, but she thought this was rather presumptuous of the hat. Not again what? she asked huffily.  
Another pair of...  
What twins? interrupted Padma. So what? It's not your place to pass judgement. Besides, I thought you were supposed to judge what's inside of us, not what we look like.  
I _do _look inside, said the hat. And that's what bothers me.  
What do you mean?  
I can't bend the rules again - you're going to have to be in Slytherin.  
asked Padma aghast. But - I can't! You don't understand - my dad will kill me - Parvati will murder me for getting us into Slytherin.  
Ah, but Parvati won't be in Slytherin.  
Now hold on a minute - it's one thing to separate us, but- she's always been the bully. Why am I being picked on?  
It's the way things have to be.  
No! I beg you, anything but Slytherin. The hat did not speak for a time.  
Very well. You're a good debater - why not be in RAVENCLAW? Padma rose, shaking. She took a place next to Boot, Terry and Brocklehurst, Amanda.  
Patil, Parvati! What happened next was very quick. Parvati strode up to the platform, placed the hat on her head and was announced a Gryffindor.  
Padma's mouth fell open. Bastard Hat! she swore.**  
  
*  
  
  
  
And the months slip into one another. January's snow covers February's grounds.The exams draw nearer. Valentine's Day passes: Fred and Angelina go dancing, Parvati and Lavender buy more make-up and Terry finally asks Lisa out properly. Harry, Ron and Hermione build a snowman. Though George and Padma would dearly love to join the, yet they are haunted and yet they do not communicate about their past.  


  
  
  
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	10. Subjected to Choice

Disclaimer: J.K owns most - I twist the story.  
  
A/N: This is really a bridge chapter to join Chapters 9 & 11. That must be its excuse for being so small. Rest assured - the next chapter will be up as soon as I receive ten reviews - it is already written.  
  
  
The Parting of the Twain  
  
Chapter 10: Subjected to Choice  
  
The months slipped by with no event of major consequence except hard work - particularly for the Fifth and Seventh years that were sitting their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s respectively. Towards the end of the spring term, all fifth-years had to decide which subjects to take for Sixth and Seventh Year.  
"So let me get this straight," said Padma. "At N.E.W.T. level you do four or five subjects."  
"Most people do four," explained George, who she had come to for advice.   
"I'm doing five," said Hermione, brightly.  
"You take his point?" asked Ron, with a shrewd look at his best friend.   
"It's really hard to cope with Five Newts because you don't get study periods. I wouldn't recommend it to anyone apart from Hermione."  
"What did you take?" asked Harry.   
"Magical Sports, Transfiguration, Charms and Herbology," said George, ticking them off on his fingers. "Fred did Magical Sports, Transfiguration, Astronomy and Arithmancy."  
"Fred never told me he did Arithmancy," remarked Hermione.  
"Know what you want to do yet, Hermione?" asked Padma, trying to act casual.  
"Transfiguration, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Ancient Languages, Charms, Herbology, History's important of course, oh and possibly Music..."  
"Sorry to degrade your Arithmancy skills," said Padma. "But you've exceeded five."  
"There's so much to choose from, though!" moaned Hermione.   
Harry and Ron glanced at each other. "Don't go over the top now," they cautioned. "Remember third year..."   
Padma and George looked at each other confused.  
"What do you think I should do?" asked Ron, obviously changing the subject.   
"It really depends on what you want to do," shrugged George. "Bill had to do Arithmancy, Charlie had to do Care of Magical Creatures, Percy had to do Ancient Languages to get into the Ministry... But nearly everyone has to do Transfiguration."  
"All I want to do is give up Potions," smiled Ron, at the thought of no more Snape.  
*  
Parvati was taking Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology and Enchanted Art. "It's so exciting," she babbled. "You use your wand to pick up the brushes and paint!"  
"I'd be useless at that," said Padma, relieved that she did not want to do any of the same subjects: she would never have to compete.  
Mandy had chosen Muggle Studies, Transfiguration, Herbology and Magical Sports. "I'm not too keen on Quidditch," she explained. "But apparently, they do go into other sports like air-polo."  
"Sounds thrilling," smiled Padma, who knew Hogwarts' Sports keeper, Madam Hooch to be obsessed with Quidditch. "What are you doing, Lise?"  
Although far from being stupid, Lisa had never excelled at Hogwarts. Pupils often nastilly wondered why the Sorting Hat had put her in Ravenclaw.  
"Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Charms and Magical Music," she said proudly.  
"Oh, I was thinking of doing Music," said Padma, who thought it would be interesting to watch a stringed instrument play itself.   
"Oh," said Lisa, put out.   
*  
The deciding day had come. The Ravenclaws were behind the Gryffindors in the queue to announce their choices so Padma was fortunate enough to be able to talk to her other friends. "Bit harsh this way of choosing subjects," she said. "We didn't have to choose our O.W.L.s this way." The entire teaching staff at Hogwarts was seated in a line and could openly say if they did not think the pupil capable of studying their subject. Hermione shrugged. "O.W.L.s are much easier than N.E.W.T.s.," she said.  
"Brown, Lavender please," said Professor McGonagall. Lavender's choices turned out to be identical to Parvati's. Seamus was next. "Your first subject choice, please," asked Professor McGonagall.   
"Transfiguration," he said looking her straight in the eye.   
"Really Mr. Finnigan, you astonish me," said McGonagall, a smile playing about her lips. "You would have thought that since you could not turn a shoe-box into a guinea-pig, you might consider Transfiguration not to be your subject." Seamus went pink, but stood his ground. "However," McGonagall continued. "You can learn when you set your mind to it, so I'll give you a chance." Seamus let out a deep breath. "Second choice?"  
"What?" After surviving his first choice, Seamus had forgotten he was only a quarter of the way through. "Oh, Charms." Professor Flitwick smiled and said, "I don't see why not."  
"Third?" barked McGonagall.  
"Magical Sports," said Seamus directing his request in the direction of the Sports department. Madam Hooch surveyed him like a hawk. "It's not all Quidditch in here, boy. We train you hard for games such as racing... oh I can't be bothered. He's in."  
"And finally?"  
"Herbology," said Seamus looking at Madam Sprout.   
"Pleasure to have you Seamus," smiled Madam Sprout. Seamus could not help grinning. "Don't stand there smirking," sighed McGonagall. "Go away!"  
Seamus practically skipped offstage while Hermione was being called.   
So it continued. Hermione was welcomed into Transfiguration, Arithmancy, Ancient Languages, Charms and The Study of Ancient Runes with open arms. Neville's teachers sighed as they allowed him to study Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, Astronomy and Magical Music.   
McGonagall seemed rather amused when Parvati chose the same subjects as Lavender had done, but said nothing.   
Harry went up next. "Mr Potter, first subject please?"  
"Transfiguration, Professor," he replied.  
"Well, as long as you don't distract Mr. Weasley too much, you'll be very welcome," she sighed. Padma could tell she was trying not to give him special attention. "Second?"  
"Charms," he said. Professor Flitwick said in a very high voice that he would be honoured. "Third, Mr Potter?"  
"Magical Sports." This came as a surprise to nobody. Harry had been the youngest seeker in a century. Madam Hooch tried to conceal her delight.  
"And finally?"  
Harry gulped. "Defence Against the Dark Arts," he said, deliberately not looking at Snape. There was a gasp from the fifth-years. Snape greasily ran his fingers through his hair. "So, Potter, you think you're good enough for my class, do you?" he hissed.  
"I will try to be good enough for the subject," answered Harry. He could not stop himself from adding. "Professor Dumbledore, we are getting a new teacher next year aren't we? So I'd have to be good enough for their class?"  
Dumbledore grinned as he replied. "Most probably, Harry, but Professor Snape has the final word."  
"I'll get back to you," drawled Snape with a casual air. Professor McGonagall shot him a filthy look. "We have to grant or deny pupils today, Severus."  
Snape looked trapped; it was a most satisfying sight. In the end, he had no choice but to allow Harry in "but," he added as Harry was attempting to make good his escape, "I will be informing the next Professor of your weaknesses and telling him to watch out for you."  
"Thankyou, Professor," said Harry with a fleeting smile.  
Dean Thomas chose Enchanted Art, Transfiguration, Herbology and Charms. Madam Dessin was thrilled to have Dean in her class as she had seen the banners he had drawn for Gryffindor. "Of course you need to be good at freehand Art before you learn to manipulate the materials," she gushed.  
Out of the Gryffindors, there was only Ron left now. He chose Transfiguration, Astronomy, Herbology and Magical Sports and was accepted (though a bit reluctantly into Professor Sinistra's class.)  
Padma waited impatiently for Boot, Brocklehurst, Moon and Nott to finish. "Well Miss Patil?" asked Professor McGonagall when her eventual turn came. "Are you going to join your sister's and Lavender's identical choice?" A smile played about her lips, so Padma knew she was joking. "No Professor," she replied.   
"First subject choice?"  
"Transfiguration."  
"Accepted," replied McGonagall readily. "Second?"  
"Ancient Languages?" Professor Linguallus looked at her keenly. "Do you speak another human language?" he asked.  
"Yes, Professor, Urdu."  
"Ah..." he said. "That is an advantage, of course. Do you know which two languages you would like to study?"  
"Possibly Mermish," she replied. "I'm not sure about the other one."  
"Welcome in Miss Patil," he said with a jovial expression running across his face.  
"Third choice?"  
"Charms."  
Professor Flitwick was Head of Ravenclaw House. "Good choice Miss Patil," he said.  
"And finally?"  
"Magical Music."  
Madam Clavier looked her up and down and Padma felt uncomfortable at once. "Do you play any instruments at the moment, my dear?" she asked.  
"I used to play the violin for a while, but I stopped. I can play a few tunes on the piano."  
"Can you sing?"  
"I try."  
"Would Voice be your main instrument, my dear - Piano being your second?"  
Padma nodded. Madam Clavier was not going to ask her to sing on the spot, was she? "Singing varies a great deal from the others, Miss Patil," she said. "Your voice being so much a part of you for so many years, has to then be trained to be isolated from your body while you control it with your wand. The sound is supposed to be better than it normally is, but only at the end of your N.E.W.T. training course will it produce a quaver that is near bearable to listen to."  
Padma nodded, bewildered. "On the other hand, I could do violin again..."  
Madam Clavier smiled and shook her head. "You have the body of a singer. Work on that."  
"Does this mean that I can take the subject?" asked Padma, confused.  
"Of course, dear," smiled Madam Clavier.  
Professor McGonagall called Lisa up then proceeded with the Hufflepuffs.  
  
*  
  
"I'm glad that's over," sighed Padma. "I didn't know you wanted to do Defence against the Dark Arts, Harry."  
Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I have to do it if I'm thinking about being an Auror." He turned to his best friends. "Why d'you do Astronomy, Ron? You always hate the homework."  
Ron blushed at this. "I wanted to do a subject that none of my brothers did for N.E.W.T. level. The only thing I can think of doing with the rest of my life is working in space. I suppose you want to work for the Ministry, Hermione."  
"Well, it did appeal to me," agreed Hermione, taking him seriously. "But with my choice of subjects I can do a number of things."  
"D'you reckon we'll be in the same class for Languages?" asked Padma, who had never been in one of Hermione's classes before, and frankly wanted all the help she could get.  
"Should be. Not that many people took it. I want to do goblin."  
"Will you guys please stop talking about work?" moaned Fred. "The Hogwarts Express leaves tomorrow - get packing!"  
  
*  
"Looking forward to the party?" asked Mandy.  
"Should be great," grinned Padma, but she had a very bad feeling about it. She threw the remainder of her books into her suitcase. "Oh I asked George, he says Terry can come. And Mike and Nick are invited too."  
"He didn't mind did he?" asked Mandy cautiously.  
"No, loads of people are coming."  
"Are his brothers coming?" asked Lisa, trying unsuccessfully to sound casual.  
"Yes. They're bringing their girlfriends."   
Lisa made a moue. "When will you two learn to secure Terry and George?" Padma and Mandy exchanged glances. "There they are, two boys, gagging for you and all you do is say 'we're just friends'."  
"Shut up Lisa," they grumbled in unison.   
"What's happening with Terry, anyway?" asked Padma, acting as though Lisa was not present. "I just don't think I'm ready to be - to be official with him. I just don't like him like that. Don't you think it's unfair if I went out with him and he liked me more than I liked him?"  
"Perfect Prefect," said Padma. "I don't think he'd see it that way somehow."   
"What's going on with George, then?" asked Mandy, pouting.  
"I don't know," shrugged Padma honestly. "I think we've accepted that it's never going to happen. He is leaving in a few months - and he's three years older than me."  
There was more to be said of course, but it was hard to express - and even if she could have put the connection that they shared into words, she doubted that she would have told him. Her heart did whisper that it was destiny that tied them together, their pasts being so identical could hardly be called coincidence. She shook her head, determined to think of George Weasley no more except in reference to his party.  
  
  



	11. Of Age

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling rules, I suck and have no imagination to come up with characters and locations of my own... blah, blah, blah.  
  
A/N: Faithful readers, random entrants and personal friends doing this out of loyalty: The Weasleys' residence, April 25th 1996, eight o'clock in the evening. Apart from five young ladies who glance nervously at the house in front of them, all guests have arrived.  
  
The Parting of the Twain (PG-13)  
Chapter 11: Coming of Age  
  
Padma had never been to The Burrow before, but by what she had been told of it, she guessed (correctly) that it had never looked as magnificent as it did that warm April evening. The Weasleys' residence stood tall and elegant in its splendour against the sunset's wash of bright colours, which the house's roof was concealing. The five chimneys' smoke was culminating in one cloud which had been enchanted to read "HAPPY 18TH BIRTHDAY FRED & GEORGE."  
Parvati nudged her sister forward. "Go on," she whispered as though the house could hear her (which it probably could.) "Ring the bell."  
"Why me?" Padma asked in a louder voice.  
"Because you're the only reason Mandy and I were invited," explained Lisa patiently. "Parvati and Lavender are Gryffindors, but the only reason we're going is because you and George are - are - "  
"Oh alright!" snapped Padma, privately thinking that if she were told she and George were an item one more time she would scream. She took her rage out on the doorbell by ringing it with extreme vigour. She need not have bothered, because the welcomer was eagerly awaiting guests, hovering on the other side of the door, so naturally opened it immediately.  
"Hi," said Ginny, hopping about excitedly. The charming thing about the Weasley daughter, thought Padma, was that she still retained her innocence, despite her being just one-year younger than Padma. Perhaps it was something to do with her being the youngest child, or only daughter.   
"Hi Ginny," replied Parvati. "I think you know me, Lavender and Padma." Lisa and Mandy gave Parvati withering looks.  
"Oh, I know Lisa and Mandy too," answered Ginny. "But," she added with a giggle, "I have to make sure it's really you." Lisa and Mandy gave her a gratifying look.  
Padma had noticed the small, spherical, opaque object in Ginny's hands before anyone else because she had been with George in Hogsmeade when they had bought it.  
"This is a Bouncer Ball," explained Ginny articulately.   
"That's very nice, dear," smiled Lavender, patronisingly.   
"It is, dear, isn't it?" scowled Ginny. "You need to state your name and the ball will tell you if you are what you seem. Padma distinctly heard the words "rude" and "cow" but said nothing. "That's a bit extreme, isn't it?" asked Mandy, wide-eyed.   
At first Padma thought Mandy meant Ginny addressing Lavender as a "rude cow" was extreme, but then realised her friend was referring to the Bouncer Ball.  
Ginny shrugged. "We want to keep the Slytherins out."  
Padma knew better. She and George had specifically sought out the Bouncer Ball in order that they keep out whatever had been tracking them both down - they both felt that the thing, whatever it was, would try something on George's birthday.  
Parvati and Lavender pushed in front of the others. "Parvati Patil," she cried.  
The ball glowed. A mechanical sound came from it. "Patil, Parvati Parveen. Born 12 February 1981 to Patil, Parvez and Patil, Priyanka..."  
"That'll do, thankyou," said Ginny and the ball was silenced. "Come in Parvati. Go straight ahead and turn right." Parvati entered the Burrow, staring at the ball. Lavender went next. "Brown, Lavender. Born 3 September 1980 to Brown, Dr. John and Brown, Miranda." Parvati looked at Ginny, wondering whether she would stop the ball, but Ginny seemed quite content to allow the ball to continue. "Terrified of white mice, in love with Seamus Finnigan..."   
"Won't that do?" snapped Lavender, who had gone bright pink.  
"Do come in, Lavender," smiled Ginny, avenged. Padma could tell Ginny was envisioning telling Gryffindor House about Lavender and Seamus. Lavender swept past her coldly.   
The other three looked at each other, uncertainly. Lisa shrugged and said her name. "Turpin, Lisa. Born..." Ginny let her in.  
"Brocklehurst, Amanda Louise..." She entered.  
"Hey Padma," smiled Ginny when they were finally alone. "Go on then."  
"Padma Patil," she said and waited.  
And waited.  
The Bouncer Ball had said nothing.   
Ginny frowned. "Better repeat it," she said. "Just in case."  
Padma repeated her name, feeling slightly nervous.  
  
"Void," announced the Bouncer Ball.   
  
It was hard to tell who was in more shock: the redheaded guardian or the ebony haired apparent intruder.  
"Ginny, I don't know..." protested Padma.  
"Fuck off bitch," whispered Ginny looking terrified. The door slammed in Padma's face.  
*  
"What? Are you sure?" George asked, astonished. He and Padma had bought the Bouncer Ball as a precaution; to appease Padma's increasing alarm. He had never thought that the creature that had been haunting them both would arrive at the doorstep impersonating Padma.  
"But she looked like her, didn't she?" asked Ron.  
"Oh Ron," sighed Hermione,"There are all sorts of creatures who could impersonate Padma. Shape-shifters, for example..."  
"Spare us the lecture," Ron retorted.  
"But there's no-one else downstairs who looks exactly like her, is there?"  
"Yes, there is," pointed out Hermione. "Parvati."   
"Do you always have to be such a know-it-all?" George asked, exasperated. Hermione shrugged. "You did ask."  
"Well she's still there," said Harry, looking out of the window.   
"Then I've got to go down and see," George said.  
"George, she - it is evil!" cried Ginny. "This is probably exactly what it wants you to do - walk right into its trap."  
George shook his head and looked out of the window. It certainly looked like Padma. "I have to make sure," he said eventually. "The Bouncer Ball might be faulty."  
"It let everyone else in just fine," pouted Ginny, hands on her hips, but George was already heading for the door.  
"Look," said Percy, who had been silently listening. Bill and Charlie were downstairs helping Fred. "As the eldest person here, I am in charge of you all. You're not quite eighteen George, legally you're not until midnight. And I feel guilty about this, what with Mum and Dad being away..."  
"Oh shut up Percival!" snapped Ron irritably. "And come downstairs."  
*  
It was the worst possible way to start a party, she thought miserably, sitting down on the front step of the Burrow. Everything had been going so well. The five of them, Padma, Parvati, Lisa, Mandy and Lavender had gone into Hogsmeade earlier that day to buy presents and (in the Gryffindors' case) clothes. Padma had not bothered buying a new outfit; no one other than Harry, Ron or Hermione had seen the scarlet dress robes she had worn at the Ball. Even if she were let in, George and the rest of them would be watching her all evening.   
The door she was leaning on opened and she fell backwards, inside.   
"Nice plan of getting in," sang Ginny, reeking of sarcasm. Padma hurriedly got to her feet and found that George's wand was pointing at her heart. "Padma," he said. "I'm really, really sorry. Veritas"  
"George Weasley!" exclaimed Percy, torn between astonishment and disgust. "You're not supposed to do that unless it's a real emergency - you'll get in trouble with the Ministry for this - I'll have to report you!"  
"SHUT UP PERCY!" yelled everyone except Padma.  
"This is an emergency," said Padma, her voice wobbling.  
"Hardly, it's only a party -"  
"She's telling the truth," said Ron pointedly.  
"What is your full name?" asked George.  
"Padma Priyanka Patil," she replied, feeling as though she were about to wretch.   
"Right, that'll do," said Percy.   
"Do you fancy George?" asked Ron hastilly. George hit him, but Percy had already said "Finite Incantatem!" anyway. Padma shivered and felt herself once more.   
Ginny was shaking her head. "Padma, I'm sorry, I didn't know - I'm sorry."  
"It's okay," said Padma, but she felt sick. "That Bouncer Ball was a waste of a galleon though, wasn't it?" She came inside.  
"We could test it now," said George. "Everyone?"   
They swiftly ascertained that Virginia Weasley, Harry James Potter, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Jane Granger were who they claimed to be. "Percy?" asked Hermione.  
Percy took a step backwards. "I don't really think that I should..."  
"Come on, are you an imposter?" mocked George. "Who are you? Are you really Percy Weasley? What are you hiding?"  
"Well of course I'm Percy Weasley, but - " Too late, he realised his mistake. "Weasley, Percival. Born 1st August 1976 to Weasley, Arthur and Weasley, Molly. Engaged to Clearwater, Penelope Ann..."  
"YOU'RE ENGAGED?!" demanded Ron. The rest of them simply stood with their mouths hanging open. Padma remembered Penelope well. She had been the Ravenclaw Prefect who had been petrified three years ago and had gone on to be Head Girl the year after.  
"And when were you planning on telling Mum and Dad?" asked Ginny.  
"I already have," stammered Percy nervously. "You don't seriously think I'd keep it from them, do you?"  
"You kept it from us!" exclaimed George as Percy backed into the Living Room. "Didn't he? Did you know Ron, Ginny?" They shook their heads and forced Percy further backwards. "Who else knows?" asked Hermione. She, Harry and Padma were regarding the Weasley family feud with interest. "Only Bill and Charlie..."  
"YOU TOLD BILL AND CHARLIE?!" yelled the Weasleys, thunderously.  
They chased Percy into the Living room, much to the amusement of the other guests who joined in "Pile-up Percy." Harry, Hermione and Padma followed, forgetting that Weasley, George had not tested the Bouncer Ball.  
*  
  
By half past eight, Padma's mishap was forgotten. She was pleased (if a little put out) to find that the invitation list had been extended further than her friends and her. The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff Quidditch teams and supporters were present - Cho Chang was talking happily to Harry - but that was not all. Bill, the eldest Weasley, had his arm around Fleur Delacour's waist. Lavender and Parvati seemed to be scowling at Fleur and drooling over Bill at the same time. Padma recognised a few boys from Beauxbatons Academy whom she had danced with at the fourth year ball. She bit her lip trying not to laugh as she remembered the scene: Ron scowling at Hermione and Viktor Krum, Harry fuming at the sight of Cho with Cedric, she and Parvati dancing sensuously with French boys (whose only words in English were "bootiful" and "lurv") in order to make their partners jealous. Ginny was talking to one of them now. Padma seemed to remember his name being Pierre.  
Charlie had shocked the party by bringing home his girlfriend, who turned out to be none other than Celestina Warbeck, the pop princess reknown for singing "Witching Hour". Her supporting band, "The Centaurs of Attention," was playing rock music in the corner, which looked to have been enlarged.  
Hermione looked in her direction, detatched herself from Viktor and made her way over to Padma.  
"Knut for your thoughts," she smiled.  
"You ought to watch it, Hermione. Mr. Krum will have to pay off all your debts."  
Hermione laughed heartily. "Live now, pay later. Full Marks for avoiding the question."  
Padma sighed. "I was just thinking how everyone's paired off. Well all the people who have lived here, including you."  
Hermione looked thoughtful. "Harry comes here more than I do. Although I did live here for a while two summers ago."  
"Well, there you are. You're with Viktor -" Hermione looked about to protest so Padma continued with haste. "Harry's with Cho. Bill's with Fleur - " Hermione frowned. She had never much cared for Miss Delacour. "Charlie's with Celestina Warbeck! I mean, she sang Witching Hour and she's really famous. Percy's engaged, as we heard earlier. Fred and Angelina haven't appeared to come up for air for fifteen minutes. Ron -" Padma simply motioned for effect. Ron was entertaining some Veela cousins of Fleur's by telling them how his father was the Minister for Magic. "And Ginny's talking to Pierre."  
Hermione shook her head. "That's not everyone who's ever lived here," she whispered and she turned Padma gently to look at the Weasley brother that Padma had missed out. The Weasley brother that was always missed out because Fred was the more confident.  
Who did George suit? A year ago she would have said Angelina, Katie or Alicia, but she knew now that that was only because they were the only girls she had seen him with. (Besides Alicia was on-off seeing Lee Jordan and Katie was far too much of a flirt to stick to one boyfriend.) He spoke to Hermione, but they were practically brother and sister. If truth were told, Padma could not imagine George with anyone else because she did not want to. She had had a crush on him since she had first stepped aboard the Hogwarts Express but so had all the girls in her year. That had not been unusual. What had been unusual was that she had got to know the real George Weasley and had liked him more for it. She knew the man behind the jokes and the laughter because she shared it with him. Though she knew that there was some dark, evil power connecting them, she could not bear life without George and she realised with a pang that for the next two years at Hogwarts, she would have to.  
With a start she realised she had been staring at George since Hermione had left. He drew away from Charlie and Celestina and came to stand by her.  
"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, grinning. It was as though she was still that fourth year that had gazed at him across the lunch hall. "Yeah thanks," she said weakly.  
"Nothing happened with you-know-what, has it?" he asked quietly.  
"What? Oh, no." He was talking about the dreams.  
"Good," he said, relief seeping through his voice. "Are you okay? You seem different..."  
"No, I'm fine," said Padma, blushing.  
"No you're not," he whispered softly. Padma began to shake with nerves as his hand massaged her cheek. She closed her eyes. His touch was so gentle that she did not notice when his caressing hand transformed into his lips... And then he was gone. Padma opened her eyes blinking to find George rocking himself irregularly, his eyes glazed over. "George?" asked Padma, thinking with a sinking heart that she had terrified him. "Are you okay?"  
Before he had a chance to reply Fred yelled, "It's time for a party game!" his tongue now free to speak. "Truth or Dare."  
"Oh no, they never work!" cried Harry. "I used to play that with Dudley. No-one ever tells the truth anyway."  
"Yes, Harry," said George, crossing to join Fred. "But did you have one of these?" Out of the pocket of his robes he withdrew his wand and twirled it softly feeling power rise through his veins.  
*   
"Right, so anyone want to explain the rules for the benefits of Muggle-borns?" asked George. He and Fred had taken the entire gathering outside and positioned them in a circle. Colin Creevey put his hand into the air. "No offence Colin," grinned Fred, "But you are a muggle-born." The garden shook with laughter.   
"I know," said Colin, abashed and amused at once. "But I know how to play this. You ask a person a truthful question and if they decline to answer, they have to do a dare." Fred and George exchanged a glance, shaking their heads. "Oh no," they said in unison. "That's the muggle way."   
"You dare someone..." began Fred.  
"...And if they don't do the dare, they have to - well, are forced to tell the truth," finished George, twirling his wand in his hand like a baton.  
Padma gulped. She knew that the Weasleys' were referring to the use of the Veritas spell. It was only supposed to be used in emergencies. When she had had the spell cast over her, a wash of chagrin had left her cold. It was not like George to experiment with deep magic - well okay it was, but he had never done so in front of her. Still, everyone around her seemed too tipsy to care. She and Parvati were the only ones who had not drunk anything and that included the first years. She looked wildly around for a sign of Percy to interfere, but he, Bill and Charlie had taken Penelope, Fleur and Celestina for a drive. Hermione spoke up. "I really don't think we should be doing this..."  
"Oh come on Herrrmionee," drawled Fred. "Bee a sporrt."  
"You're just drunk!" Hermione snapped back. "We could get in serious trouble for this!"  
"No we won't," said George. "Besides, if everyone takes the dares we won't have to get people to tell the truth, will we?"  
  
At first, the dares were fun: Alicia had to dance sensuously round the garden, Ginny was pressured into owling Mrs Weasley to say that she was pregnant with Pierre's baby. The guests got bored and gradually drifted inside as the evening drew on, until the only people in the back garden were Angelina, Padma, Harry, Ron, Hermione and the incredibly drunk Weasley twins. The truths became cruel. Fred, at any rate, was still being facetious, but George seemed to be acting like Draco Malfoy on a bad day. She supposed it was the drink, thought Padma, but that did not excuse the way he was behaving.  
"Angelina," Fred drawled. "When did you start fancying me?" Padma always thought that he deserved the slap he received. Angelina swept past them coldly into the house.  
"Right," said Fred, downing yet another watermelon flavoured Wheezer, "Let's target the famous three, shall we?" He turned on his youngest brother and his two best friends. Hermione was shaking her head, gravely. "Fred, George, don't you think you've had enough to drink?"  
Fred ignored her with a wave of his now empty bottle.  
"Ron," he drawled. They were making a pattern now, noted Padma. Fred would make up the dares and George would invent the truths. "I dare you to... do an engorgement charm on a spider."  
To Padma, this seemed harmless enough, but by the expression on Ron's face and the asperity with which Hermione hissed "You know how he hates them!" she gathered that this was fairly ruthless.  
"I'll take that as a truth then," smiled George. It was a smile that Padma had never seen on George's lips before. It was a smirk, a lust for evil.  
"Right Ron, what are you most jealous of Harry for?" Padma's jaw dropped open and she was not in the least surprised to find that she was not the only one. This was George's younger brother. How could he be subjecting him to this torture? Even Fred seemed alarmed. "George," he muttered warningly. "Maybe that's pushing the game." Harry was looking nervous, not sure quite what to do.  
As Hermione sharply said "That's too harsh George," and Ron stammered "I can't answer that - " George whipped out his wand and muttered "Veritas."   
Hermione struggled for her wand, probably to stop the spell. "I repeat Ron, what are you most jealous of Harry for?"  
Ron's voice was cold and monotonous. "He can never do anything wrong. Even when he gets homework wrong people excuse him. "It's the Boy who Lived," they say. And he doesn't need me anymore. He's got Sirius and Hermione. And he's so blind, he knows Hermione's in love with - "  
"Finite Incatatem," said Hermione. Ron turned his back and headed for the house. "I'm sorry Harry," he mumbled without being able to turn around. Harry was white with anger, even though he knew Ron was not really to blame. "George, stop or you'll lose the only person who still cares about you." Padma knew he was referring to her. She knew something was terribly wrong. This was not George. Something had happened to him: he was ill. "George," she said gently. "I think you need to lie down for a while. Help me with him, Fred." Whatever his physical state appeared to be, Fred was sober enough to detach George from the drink.  
"No!" yelled George. "Hermione!"  
Hermione looked up sharply. Her arm was around Harry's shoulders and she was whispering words of reassurance to him. "Veritas!" yelled George, pointing his wand at her, before Fred could take it away. "Harry and Ron are both drowning, who do you save first?"  
Padma would have put up a counter spell, but she was in a state of shock. She wanted to cry; what had happened to her George? Had something possessed him? Harry, reflexes sharp from Quidditch training muttered "Finite Incatatem" before Hermione, looking pained, could answer.  
"Don't you want to know Harry?" asked George, who did not seem to realise that the people gathered round him wanted to punch him.  
"No I don't," said Harry quietly, his voice shaking with rage. "You don't seem to realise that friendship isn't based on petty jealousy and who likes who more. Hermione is my best friend. So is Ron. I wouldn't care if he was jealous of me because of the colour of my hair or being Triwizard Champion - because friendship is about making allowances. It's obviously something that you've completely forgotten. Come on Hermione, let's find Ron."  
They turned. "Harry!" yelled out Fred. "I'm sorry, I never meant... it was only a game." Harry briefly turned back to nod as a gesture of accepting his apology.  
They left Fred, Padma and George with the deep silence for company. "I think you'd better find Angelina," said Padma shortly. Fred nodded, glancing sideways at George. "I'll take him to your room," she continued. Fred ran off, suddenly seeming very sober. "Right then," she sighed and led the stumbling boy towards his bedroom. George was silent the entire way. It was only when Padma put him down on his bed that he began rambling. "Don't know why everyone's behaving in such a weird way... only a joke... everyone wants to know if Hermione fancies Harry or Ron...He's my brother - got a right to know..."  
"No you don't," said Padma shortly. For the first time in her life she was annoyed with George. Oddly enough, she was not furious with him: she knew that there were dark powers at work here. It had been something to do with his peck on her cheek. It had seemed innocent enough, she thought guiltily. "That was wrong George. Even though Harry said he didn't want to know whom Hermione would save, he'll be curious forever. And she'll feel too guilty to choose one over the other. She might not ever go out with either of them, now. You might have scarred their lives."  
George blinked at her with a neutral expression and Padma realised with a jolt that he did not care. "I'm going to the bathroom!" she muttered in frustration, marching over to the door that connected to it and slamming the door behind her. She looked sweaty, she thought looking at herself in the mirror. What was she to do? Something was seriously wrong with George and she knew, no matter how hard she tried to deny it, she knew she was responsible. Opening the tap in an attempt to relieve her perspiration, she splashed cold water on her face. Immediately an aspect of guilt lifted from her soul making her feel lighter. She started smiling, though she told herself that there was nothing to smile about - the party would soon be over and George would soon lose all his friends. She braced herself and went back into George's bedroom.  
"Hey," he grinned at her. "What am I doing up here?"  
She stopped her mouth from falling open just in time. He is himself again. He is himself again and he can't remember anything that happened.   
"You didn't feel well. I brought you up here 'cos you thought you might be sick." The lies flowed from her as easily as water flowed from a stream. She could not bring herself to tell him that kissing her had turned him into something that she had hated. "Oh," he said, a little surprised. "What time is it?"  
"Ten," she said glancing down at her watch.  
"Ten!" yelped George. "It was only half eight a second ago. I feel fine, now - can we go downstairs?"  
Padma nodded silently, hoping against all hopes that his guests would have forgiven him. George ran down the stairs and bounded into the Living room in the manner of a puppy reunited with its kennel. Harry was the first to come over to him. Padma gulped. Please, she prayed, let him have forgiven...  
"George!" exclaimed Harry delighted, clapping a hand on his friend's back "Feeling Better?"  
Padma's pupils darted from left to right. What was going on?  
"Yeah thanks," said George. "What have I missed?"  
"Oh the food, the food!" yelled Ron coming to join them. He was grinning at his brother.  
"I missed the banquet?" asked George. Padma's head was reeling. It didn't happen. None of it happened. I'm going mad. I'm going delusional. I'm going crazy.  
"You can have some now," said Hermione. "There's loads left over."  
"Not now," said Fred. "We're going to play Truth or Dare." Padma looked up wiede-eyed. Oh God, no!   
"Oh no, they never work," cried Harry, as Padma was hit with déjà vu. " I used to play it with Dudley. No-one ever tells the truth anyway."  
There was nothing for it. "Exactly," said Padma before Fred could continue. "Let's do something else instead... I know - " (But of course she did not have a clue what to do.) "Yes?" asked George expectantly. Padma glanced wildly around her for a plan that would be harmless. "We could - we could..." She saw Charlie with Celestina. "We could do a karaoke!" she exclaimed triumphantly. The guests looked at each other, with dubious looks. Parvati shook her head, proclaiming her sister to be mad. "Ok," said Fred eventually although he was staring at Padma as though she was a fish on a bicycle. "Why don't you start off?"  
Padma groaned as Bill said "Sonorus," pointing his wand at her. "I walked right into that one didn't I?" Her voice echoed round the room.  
Ever since she had been a child, Padma had been forbidden to sing. She had always assumed that it was because she sounded like Crookshanks being strangled. However when she was suddenly the centre of attention, she had no desire to sing.  
"Maybe, em, Celestina could start off since she's a singer," she babbled nervously. She had to keep this idea going. They could not play Truth or Dare. "Call me Tina," came the recognisable voice, the American accent that had only ever been heard on the radio. "And I'd really prefer not to sing tonight."  
"Yeah," piped up one of the band. "She never sings live."   
Padma gulped. (The microphoned sound caused everyone to hear.) What could she sing with two hundred people watching her? Mandy and Lisa were giving her the thumbs-up. She caught George's eye and he winked. She thought of how her kiss had turned him into something that she could never have loved. She thought of how they could never be together because what kept them together, their dark connection, had to drive them apart. Then she thought they were lucky because whatever the future or the past had held, they had shared a year of their lives and she knew that George would remember it even better than she had.   
Mumbling something about a muggle track and whispering to the band about what to play, she cleared her throat and began.  
  
It was a Monday when my lover told me,  
We can't be together for love only,  
What could I say to you except I loved you?  
And I'd give my life for yours.  
  
I know, we are, we are the lucky ones.  
I know, we are, we are the lucky ones.  
I know, we are, we are the lucky ones.  
  
She looked up during the instrumental and saw that the crowd seemed to be enjoying themselves. A few were even dancing to the slow rhythm. George was looking grave. He knew.  
She changed the words of the verse to suit her, but kept the chorus the same.  
  
I know, we are, we are the lucky ones.  
  
It was no use crying; the crowd was applauding. Lee Jordan yelled above the crowd. "Miss Padma Patil there, with a muggle track of her favourite. Quite a singer too..."  
Padma crossed to stand next to Hermione. "I never knew you could sing," gasped Hermione. Padma shrugged. "Neither did I."  
After Padma had sung, everyone seemed keen to join in. All the Weasley siblings joined in to sing their rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody, Viktor and his teammates sang Billy Joel's Leningrad. Even a few of the first years belted out a track off the Weird Sisters' latest album. However, it was silently agreed that Padma's performance had been the best. She was even approached by Celestina Warbeck to be asked if Padma sang professionally, whether she had an agent, if she would mind joining "The Centaurs of Attention" over the Summer for a tour of America as Tina's supporting Act. Dizzily, Padma said that she would get back to her through Charlie.   
"Quite Miss Popular tonight," said Parvati. Padma smiled at her sister. "I didn't mean to," she said. "Just didn't want to..."  
"...Play Truth or Dare," smiled Parvati. "I know."  
"No-one knows me like you do," Padma said.  
"Of course not. The firework display should start soon. It's almost eleven." Sure enough, Bill called everyone together, told them to put on their over-robes and led them outside. The sky was pitch black, lit only by the stars above and the laughter that the guests shared. "Did you get any food, Padma?" asked George, putting his arm through hers in an effort to be jovial. "No..." She was trying to think of something witty to say, but all she could think of was his arm is linked in mine. "Well, don't worry, there's still the Birthday cake to come. Percy and Dad pulled a few strings at the Ministry to get the fireworks. Our brothers and Ginny have made a firework each. Should start soon. There'll be different colours of course - blue, green and red - oh and speaking of red, did I mention how nice you look tonight? I only mentioned it in passing, you know fireworks, colours, red, dress robes... Don't you think it's great about Charlie and Celestina? I do, she's really nice, and not just because she's a singer. Talking of singers, you have a really good voice - did I mention that? It was a nice song. Only mentioned it in passing, you know, Charlie and Celestina, singing..."  
He stopped because Padma was smiling at him. "What?" he asked.  
"I love it when you babble," she replied. His face turned the colour of her dress robes. He prayed for a distraction and it came shooting out of Bill's wand onto the black canvassed shimmery sky. A green Catherine Wheel that spun more quickly than any of the Bulgarian Quidditch team on broomsticks zoomed to the top of the sky, circled then burst into golden Galleons that danced against their ebony background and rained on the gasping crowd. A few galleons remained in the sky, which (magically of course) wrote the words   
  
Fred and George, you had a lot to live up to and you have. Hey, you've even equalled the swotty accountant eldest bro!   
Happy 18th Birthday from Gringotts Bank, Fleur and most especially Bill.  
  
Padma was in a state of awe but that was nothing compared to the Muggle-borns who had not seen Wizard Fireworks before. "That was amazing - " "Never seen anything like it" "Better than at the Quidditch World Cup - " (Here there was a chortle of mirth, as nothing could beat the standard of the leprechauns.) Bill stood up and bowed as the crowd applauded and Fleur beamed with pride.  
Just as they were missing the first firework, there came a second. This one appeared to be a golden snitch, which shot up to the sky faster than a Firebolt. Well, it was from Charlie, who had been Quidditch captain. The golden snitch appeared to grow in size until it resembled a large egg. The crowd held their breath in glee as the egg hatched to reveal what now had the Snitch's wings: an outline of a cute red baby dragon. The dragon spouted steam, which read  
  
Fred and George - The world is your shell: explore, discover and don't drink too much. Happy 18th Birthday!  
  
Charlie, Celestina and "The Centaurs of Attention"  
  
With a flick of Charlie's wand, the dragon disappeared. Padma looked at Percy, whilst applauding Charlie who had rolled up his robe sleeves and held out his wand. From the shiny, pointy tip came a purple cloud of smoke, which rose to the sky slowly, expanded and formed letters inside it.   
  
On behalf of Mr Percival Weasley, Miss Penelope Clearwater and the Ministry of Magic, we wish Messrs. Frederick and George Weasley a very happy 18th Birthday and a prosperous adulthood.  
  
"What's that supposed to do with him?" whispered Padma to George, whilst applauding. George shrugged as he fake-grinned at Percy. "That he's boring?"  
Padma suddenly realised that of course Ron would be next as Fred and George were the hosts. With a reassuring squeeze from Hermione that made Viktor raise his eyebrows, Ron pulled out his wand and sent something roaring across the sky that made the crowd realise that firstly they were in for a treat, and secondly that Hermione had been training her best friend up. Ron continued working with his wand, treating it as a sparkler. He drew a rectangle in the air, which the royal blue spark in the sky copied, only a hundred times bigger. Once the blue rectangle was in place Ron whispered something to his wand and gradually an image began to form inside the rectangle. Padma's eyes widened in delight as she realised that the blue rectangle was acting as a frame and that it held a picture of two year old Ron with five year old Fred and George.  
  
Fred and George  
It's been a long time since then, but if you think about it we haven't changed that much - you two still make me laugh. Hogwarts won't be the same without you.  
  
Harry, Hermione and above all Ron.  
  
Padma had never seen such a sentimental letter from Ron - but then again come to think of it, she had never seen any letter from him. But by the look on Fred and George's faces, she doubted whether all Ron's letters were like that.  
Ginny as always was last. She tried to look confident as she flicked her wand into position. Ron had managed to capture pictures: Ginny had transported recorded sound. As the gleaming gold spark streaked across the sky Mr Arthur Weasley's voice could be heard.   
"It's a girl!"  
"Thank God for that!"  
With a start, Padma realised she and her friends were hearing six-year old Fred's voice. "At least we won't have to fork out another eighteen galleons to buy another baby," added six year old George.  
As the sound faded, the streaking cursor formed lettering against the entertaining sky.   
  
It isn't easy to be the only girl. But I know that it's no picnic to look after an only sister either. Whenever I frowned, you made me smile, whenever I cried, you made me laugh and whenever I got too bossy, you gave me a good slap. Let's always be there for each other.  
Happy 18th Birthday Fred and George to two of the best brothers in the World (the rest being Bill, Charlie, Percy and Ron.)  
  
Lots of Love from Ginny (Should there be someone else as well?)   
  
No one had seemed to notice how the time had flown. It was quarter to twelve and time for the birthday cake. The party resolutely shuffled inside; they knew that the evening was drawing to a close - after the cake had been cut, the guests would have to return to normality, and for the majority of them, Hogwarts.   
The cake was quite small: just large enough for words of delicious cliché "Happy 18th Birthday Fred and George."   
"George," muttered Padma warningly. "There might not be enough for everyone. Why don't you save it until everyone's gone home?" George silenced her with a wave of his hand. He and Fred clasped hands over a knife and cut the cake across the middle. Fred cut a slice and fed it to Angelina. "For the loveliest lady in the land," he said as Angelina munched away and the party laughed. As the laughter died away, Padma could feel the crowd's eyes turn towards and fix on her. Oh God thought Padma. They're waiting for him to give his slice to me. George looked baffled as to what to do. Then he cut a slice, motioned his sister forward and gave it to Ginny. "For a lady equally as lovely, although not quite as tall."  
The party responded by chuckling, although Padma distinctly heard a trace of pity in their mirth, and blushed at the fact that it was probably directed towards her. "Anyone else want a piece?" asked Fred, and Padma found that the cake had refilled its board.   
"Yes please!" yelled Bill. As the guests filed out of the door they would receive thanks for coming, their slices of cake and each time the board emptied, someone would flick his wand and the board would be refilled with more chocolate sponge. Eventually there was nobody left except the Weasleys, Celestina, Fleur, Penelope, Harry, Ron, Hermione and the Patils.   
Padma suddenly felt the awkwardness of her situation: everyone else was connected with the Weasleys in some way. "I should going too," she said. Parvati nodded, thanked her hosts for having her and told her sister she would meet her outside. Suddenly, Fred set everyone about tidying up the back garden. "Oh George, d'you want to clean inside?" he asked with a glance at Padma, who shifted awkwardly.  
And they were alone. At last. The room they were standing in suddenly seemed very small and as they moved closer together, both felt their worlds converging. They halted a foot apart, as if this distance could keep them separated. "Thanks for coming," he said, tonelessly.  
"No thankyou," she replied, knowing how much she sounded like an untalented actress from a cheap film.  
"It wasn't much but..."  
"No," she interrupted. "It was great. I had a really good time tonight."  
There was silence. George moped as he imagined the way it would play out. She would leave, thanking him again, eating her chocolate cake. They would both do their exams and suddenly feel that what they had shared that year was petty in comparison with the world and with what they could achieve, who they could meet. He would leave Hogwarts at the end of the year and forget about her...  
  
"Oh screw this," he muttered and kissed her.  
  
They were so close; it was as though they were drinking each other. This was beyond kissing; this was something greater. And in that instance, the chemistry and electricity that bound them together, acted as a portkey to transport them to a world determined to tear them apart.  
  



	12. Shared illusion

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and most related characters, locations and indicia belong to Joanne Kathleen Rowling (not, I stress, Warner Brothers, who only hold rights over the film.)   
  
A/N: I am very sorry about the length that it took to prepare this climatic chapter. I was a slave to my Standard Grades (the Muggle Scottish equivalent to O.W.L.s.) I am also somewhat depressed due to Personal matters; so excuse if my writing is not up to the small standard that even it should be capable of reaching. You will need to read the following chapter extremely carefully if you do not want to get lost.  
  
The Parting of the Twain (PG)  
  
Chapter 12: The Convergence of the Twain  
  
... Before he opened his eyes, George could have sworn that his soul had been ripped from his body, so abused did he feel. However, when his eyes did open to his surroundings, he realised with a jolt that something far more precious had been stolen. His immediate thought was for Padma's safety, but as selfless as George Weasley was, his mind soon returned to his own situation.   
What had happened? He had been with Padma, had kissed her, had for one priceless moment felt part of something great, possibly even greater than being a twin... Then he had felt Padma being taken away from him, had heard her scream, her cry his name. Though he hadn't felt his feet moving, his body had been forced to apparate to here.  
Here was a pitch-black, freezing cold, slimy, rough-sided cranny of a room. With a jump (half because of the temperature, half because of sudden inspiration) he realised that this was the place he and Padma had been brought to on Halloween. Surely that must mean she was here too? He could bear it if he could only hear her voice!   
"Padma?" he called in an excited whisper. "Are you there?"  
He hated the Sound of Silence so much. Why had they separated them? They had both been taken to the same place on Halloween, so surely Padma must be here too? Perhaps she was unconscious, shaken by the journey. He began to claw his way around the cell (much to his surprise he had not been pinioned), but soon found that he was the only object in the room.   
Why was he on his own then?  
Padma would have been brought here as well, unless... unless he was the only one they wanted. He gulped. Had he dragged her into all this? He selfishly shook his head, denying it. Padma had had dreams too... she had supposedly been born under the Dark Mark as well...  
Time had not split again, had it? Was she in a different reality?  
George's mind jumped from one conclusion to another like flames dancing on wildfire. He could almost hear her comforting voice calming him down. It's alright, George. Be brave.  
He relaxed, allowing the tension in his muscles to lessen. She would be calm, he thought. Act like her. She would be calm.  
*  
"What the fuck am I doing here?" Padma yelled. She had forgotten that she had been brought up as a lady, forgotten her composure and, perhaps most importantly of all, forgotten she was the only person in the "room." The room was a midnight black cell, judging by the bars that could faintly be made out.  
"I will blame you, George Weasley, if I don't get back in time to sit my O.W.L.s," she muttered in contempt. Her face brightened. "Now there's an upside! No exams!" she exclaimed. Padma realised that she had been talking aloud to herself. "I really am getting delusional..."  
*  
The door creaked open, casting rays of fierce light onto George's pale, drawn face. Against the brilliance of the illuminating light, George could only make out the outline of the tall, broad figure he was faced with. However, as soon as he heard the all-too familiar, greasy voice say, "Follow me, Mr. Weasley", he was overcome with recognition. "You..." he muttered, getting to his feet.   
"I am indeed myself," came the cold, curt retort. "Would you follow me please?" He held the door open for George.  
"I always knew you were a bastard," swore George, still in the doorway. "I knew it the first time I laid eyes on you."  
"Will you follow me or will I have to use force?" the other demanded, cooly. George knew it was pointless to struggle, so reluctantly stepped out of the cell into the brightness and allowed the door to be shut and locked behind him. The man who George had hated for so many years walked briskly ahead and George had to practically run to keep up.  
"I always knew Dumbledore was wrong to trust you again," spat George. "It just goes to show that even he can be wrong." Here, the man stopped and stared at George, baffled. Then, thinking it was some ploy to trap him continued walking.  
"So are you going to tell me who - or what - I'm up against, or am I going to have to use the little knowledge you taught me in Defence Against the Dark Arts?"  
"I am a good teacher!" the Professor retorted, hissing.   
"Sure you are..." mocked George. "Why does everyone drop Potions as soon as they get the chance then?"  
"Because you ignorant twerp," replied Severus Snape. "No-one in this stupid school has any sense. When I taught Potions years and years ago..."  
"What?" asked George, distracted.  
Snape turned on him."I can tell you're going to be just like the others, Weasley. Easily distracted, no concentration..."  
"Okay, so now I'm thinking you've got amnesia. You know I have no concentration."  
"We're here," said Snape, abruptly and swung open a door.  
*  
"I am so glad to see you, Professor," gasped Padma.   
"As I am you, Miss Patil," replied the erect woman, but she continued walking apace.  
"So, er, not to be impolite, but where are we?" asked Padma, struggling to keep up. The Professor stopped walking, looked surprised, and pushed the glasses further up her nose. "I should have thought that it was obvious. We are in Hogwarts. Honestly, have they taught you nothing?"  
"They?" asked Padma, blankly.   
"Your teachers."  
"But you're my... oh never mind." Padma laughed nervously and changed the subject. "So has Hogwarts been refurbished then? Glad to see the Ministry's been paying us some attention, but I really preferred it the way it was, didn't you, Professor McGonagall?"  
There was no reply, so Padma assumed her question had been taken rhetorically.  
"As much as I love school and everything," she tried again. "Why am I here?"  
"Why are you here?" asked McGonagall, completely astonished. "Why?"  
"Yes... I went home for the holidays. I told Professor Vector I was going." They had stopped walking and were next to a door. McGonagall grasped the handle. "I thought all had been explained," she gasped. "Where else would the ceremony take place but at Hogwarts?"  
Padma was beginning to shiver and for the first time in her life, doubted the woman in front of her. "What - what ceremony?" she asked, steadying her voice.  
"The one you've been subconsciously preparing yourself for all your life." McGonagall consulted her Witch Watch. "And the one for which you are now late." McGonagall turned the handle.  
*  
Both of them entered at the same time. Padma's heart felt much lightened by the sight of him, but George felt immediate relief that she was alright and delayed fear of what would happen to her - to them - now. She ran over to him (glad that neither McGonagall nor Snape tried to stop her) and considered throwing her arms around his neck, but thought better of it.  
"I take it you know something weird's going on..." he muttered to her. As petrified and alarmed as Padma was regarding their immediate fate, she did feel a bit putout. "Nice to see you too,"she muttered under her breath.  
"What?" asked George.  
Padma shook her head. "I know, McGonagall acted as if she didn't know me... it's weird."  
"And Snape thinks he hasn't been teaching Potions for years."  
  
"Didn't anyone ever teach you not to whisper?" asked a voice. Both of them looked up and were astonished to find that the hall they were in was full of the students that they knew, that they worked, played and slept alongside.   
However, it was clear that the students had no recollection of ever having met Padma and George. Their so-called friends were surveying them with looks of wonder and suspicion. Padma gulped as she felt the eyes of a hundred familiar boys look her up and down.   
"Now I understand," continued the voice, and (as Padma's jaw dropped) they saw that it belonged to Mandy, "You can't speak above whispering, can you?"   
The hall echoed with laughter. Padma shook her head, bemused. Was this her best friend? She sounded like Amanda Brocklehurst, but the way she held herself was completely different... she resembled Pansy Parkinson. Though she had Mandy's appearance, several things had changed in what appeared to be an hour. Mandy's wavy, brown hair had been straightened so that it was sleek and shiny. It had golden highlights in it. She also had more confidence, the trait that Lisa had always posessed. Lisa... Lisa was standing away from Mandy; in fact she was standing away from everyone, shying away in a corner. She joined in the laughter occasionally, but was careful not to allow anyone to overhear her giggles.   
George's keen eyes, meanwhile had scoured the hall and found Lee. George was equally as surprised as Padma - Lee's dreadlocks were gone and for once he did not seem to be the centre of attention.  
"So it's you - is it?" asked a familiar voice. George followed its sound. This speaker was altered too. She still had fiery red hair, but it was worn in a neat bob, not in plaits. She walked with grace, not her naïve little run and she did not look at George in the affectionate way that he was used to. "Mum always said she had a fourth son. I thought it was a joke for a while but then... well here you are, living proof." She stopped and shook her head, grimacing. Even this weak attempt at a smile did not have the appearance of his little sister.   
"Ginny," stammered George. "I - I don't understand... where are we? Why are you acting like this? Is it the Imperius spell?"  
Another boy came forward and took Ginny's hand. "The Master said you would be like this," he said leading Ginny forward, closer to George. "Dazed, confused, disbelieving. Eventually though," he whispered to George. "You're forced to believe, made to accept."  
George saw what they were doing now - it was a joke, all an act. He prayed that he was right, but could not convince himself.  
"Accept what, Ron?" asked George. "If this an attempt to make me accept that you're a prat, then there's really no need. I already knew that." George caught Padma's eye and she swallowed a laugh.  
An older boy came forward and stood next to Ron and Ginny. "Deep down, you know it's not a joke, don't you?"  
"A joke?" asked George, although he was less amused now. "Of course it's a joke. I mean, come on, you're not even wearing your glasses! Since when has Percival Weasley been known to face a person without his good ol' specs?"  
Another boy came to stand next to Percy and they acted as though George had never spoken. "Deep down, you know this is reality."   
George rolled his eyes. "Do shut up Charlie," he sighed shaking his head.  
The final brother came forth. "You know this is reality, the reality that you've been defying all through that empty space of time you know as your life."  
George blinked and exchanged a glance with Padma. "God, Bill, who died and left you Poet Laureate?" Then George did a double-take. "What the hell did you do with your hair?" he asked, even though it was pretty obvious that Bill had shaved it off.  
Padma took George's arm. "Is that it?" she asked quietly.  
"Must be..." he muttered. "No hold on." He began counting his siblings. "One, two, three, four, five. Six including me so that's still missing one. Who's not here?"  
Padma smiled at him. "Your twin?"  
George jumped. How could he have forgotten him? He was a part of him. When he looked at old photographs, it was near impossible to tell who was who. "Yeah," he challenged his brothers and sister. "Where's he?"  
"He?" quizzed Bill, tilting his shaved head.  
"Yeah, you know, him. The fourth son in our family... my twin? You know... Padma, what's his name again?"  
Padma jumped with shock. "I - I can't seem to remember - " she stammered. George, completely lost, looked to his feet for answer. One came. "Padma," he muttered. "Look at the floor." She did as he asked and was completely and utterly taken aback. The ground they were standing on was bewitched to look like the sky above: a grey sky with a storm coming.  
"I can't believe it," muttered Padma. "It's - it's upside down!"  
Ginny let go of Ron's hand and walked over to George and Padma. "What is?"   
"Everything," said George and Padma in unison.  
"Everything is the opposite," said George, the realisation filling him with excitement. "Bill's long hair is gone - "  
"Mandy's hair is straight -" exclaimed Padma.  
"Percy doesn't have his glasses-"  
"Lee doesn't have his dreadlocks -"  
"All rise for the Master," announced Snape, interrupting them. At once the crowds of pupils fell to their knees and bowed their heads.   
"What's Dumbledore got them on?" asked Padma in whisper to George.  
"Something tells me," replied George. "That "the Master" isn't Dumbledore."  
Something informed George correctly. The doors opened to the hundreds of crouched pupils, bowing down before their master, and he entered. His pearly white beard was even longer than Dumbledore's: it dragged behind the man, but somehow he managed not to trip on it. He was dressed in magnificent mauve dress robes, which ended in a long train held by two neat house-elves, which George recognised to be Winky and Dobby. He came to stand where Padma and George were and ordered the elves to fetch his golden seat. It was brought and he sat whilst ordering his pupils to rise to their feet.  
"So," he finally announced, looking erect. "You have come."  
"We were dragged," replied Padma, coldly. The pupils gasped at such forwardness, but the Headmaster looked amused. "That is one way of putting it," he agreed. "Tell me, Miss Patil, do you know where you are?"  
Padma paused, trying to conjure up her wit. "Judging by the way the other pupils prostate in front of you as though you were God, I'd say a surreal world in a nineteenth century time warp." Again, there was a murmur of astonishment.  
"Wrong on both counts," replied the Headmaster, satisfied. "Firstly, we are in the twentieth century and the date is now the 26th of April, 1996. Secondly, this is the real world."   
"But that can't be!" came the retort. The Headmaster held up a small bottle of perfume and sprayed it around the room. "Why can't it be, Parvati?" he asked sincerely.  
"Because we've come from - what did you just call me?" she asked, curiously.  
"I called you Parvati," replied the Headmaster smoothly. "Have I pronounced your name wrong?"  
Parvati shook her head. "No," she replied slowly. "That's how Ammi and Abbu (my mum and dad) say it..." She trailed off. "What do you think?" she asked her friend.  
Fred looked baffled. "I don't know," he said. "Maybe I call you Ti for short or something?"  
"I don't think so Fred," replied Parvati. She looked up at the Headmaster. "I'm sorry - where were we?"  
"I think you were telling us how you arrived here," replied the Professor.  
"Oh yes," said Parvati and she resumed her story. "We've come from... from..." She trailed off, uncomfortably. "Er, Fred, maybe you should continue.  
"Um, okay." Fred took in a deep breath, but had to let it out again. "I can't seem to remember!" he exclaimed, kicking himself inwardly.  
The Headmaster smiled. "That's perfectly alright. You're both very tired. It makes no difference, anyhow, the letters that we've received from your parents explain everything - you Parvati, have just returned from India where you have lived for five years looking after your aged grandfather."  
"Oh," said Parvati uncertainly. "Yes, of course."  
"And you Fred," continued the Headmaster, "finished your education at Beauxbatons Academy and have returned in order to apply for the post of Games Master."  
"How could I have forgotten?" exclaimed Fred, smiling.   
"Well, all that's settled then," replied the Headmaster. "All that remains is for me to introduce you to the Head Boy and Head Girl."  
The door opened once more and a boy and girl of about Parvati's age entered the hall. The boy had neat hair that was Parvati's dark colour and eyes of dazzling green. His hand was held by a girl with short, chocolate brown hair. "May I present Harry Potter and Hermione Granger?" announced one of the house-elves.  
The couple (obviously very much in love) walked over to Parvati and Fred. "Have we met?" asked Parvati to the Head Girl.  
"I don't think so," replied Hermione Granger with a laugh.  
"Don't you have some sort of - of mark on your head?" asked a confused Fred, to the Head Boy.  
"Ssh!" hushed Harry Potter. "Don't let my girlfriend find out I have acne!" The hall echoed with laughter.  
"It is late," announced the teacher who had brought Parvati in.  
"Quite right, my dear Minerva," replied the Headmaster. "Goodnight my pupils!"  
"Goodnight Professor Riddle," they chorused.  
Parvati jumped at this and had a sudden feeling of déjà vu. She was sure she had heard that name before. However, in an instant, it had gone.   
"Your room is upstairs to the left," smiled Hermione. "I'll leave you to say goodnight to Fred, first."  
The hall slowly emptied and the chatter died away. Fred and Parvati were left, alone at last. "How do you feel?" he asked.  
"Drained," she muttered. "Really, really strange."  
"Must be the jetlag," he said. "But I feel empty as well." There was an awkward pause. "Well I guess I'll see you in the morning." He took her hand to kiss it goodnight. As he did so, a turquoise bracelet slid down her slender wrist and his eyes dilated at what was written on it.  
"Padma?" he asked. She jumped.  
"George?" she asked in turn. In that instant, their memories came flooding back to them, and the horror of their immediate situation finally became apparent.  
  
A/N: Hope you're not too confused. Thanks to Fledge, Ginny, Lara, Princess Katrina and loads of others.  



	13. Defy Destiny

Disclaimer:                    Professor Linguallus, Madam Dessin and Madam Clavier are mine but the other characters are property of J.K. Rowling. The locations are mainly Ms. Rowling's although I stake claim over my idea for the ceiling to be upside down, hence the world being the wrong way round.     

A/N:                             Sorry that this has taken forever and a day. This is one of the longest chapters and I've now decided that there will have to be two more episodes. Chapter 14: Accept Reality will be the next instalment and then an epilogue will finish the story. Happy New Year everyone! Review if you want the next part.

The Parting of the Twain (**PG – ****Padma and ****George)**

Chapter 13: Defy Destiny

"Are you coming Parvati?" asked Hermione, patiently. Padma, not used to the name, did not immediately respond. "What's going on?" she muttered to "Fred".

"I dunno," he said, more to himself, than to her. He retorted to the only means of recovery he knew: humour. "Padma, I don't think we're in Hogwarts anymore."

She glared at him. "Well, I don't see any yellow brick road," she hissed.

"Parvati?" Hermione repeated, with more force.

"That's you," said George, nudging Padma.

"What?" Padma asked Hermione. "Oh yeah, coming." She turned back to George. "I'll see you in the morning…" she whispered. "Inshallah," she added to herself, silently. 

As she turned away, George said in her ear, "Don't forget." He turned to walk with Harry and Padma made her way over to Hermione.

                                                                        *

"This will be your room during your time here at Hogwarts," said Hermione. "Do you like it?"

"Oh yes," replied Padma with a rueful smile. It was the Gryffindor fifth year girls' dormitory.

"It reminds me of somewhere I know quite well," she added.

"I sleep over here," said Hermione, gesturing at a wall covered with posters of Celestina Warbeck and Harry. She was only half-listening to Padma; she was playing with her hair. "And that," she added with a regal air, "is where Lavender sleeps. She should be up soon."

Padma had already known the room's layout, of course, because she had been to her sister's dormitory many times, but she remained silent, noting the changes that had been made. The main one was that Hermione's revision timetables had gone and instead scarless Harry was there, winking and licking his lips at every opportunity. There was also one of Harry and Hermione, but Harry had been eyeing Padma up so openly that Hermione had slapped him and he had stormed off.

"So…" began Padma. "You and Harry been seeing each other long?"

Hermione smiled, sat down on her bed and flicked her highlighted hair back. "It's kind of a long story, but if you're not tired…"

"Believe me, sleeping is the last thing I feel like doing right now," said Padma, plainly.

"It all started at the fourth-year Yule Ball," gushed Hermione. "Harry's the star of the Quidditch team," she added proudly.

"Really?" asked Padma with genuine surprise. How was _this opposite to the real Harry Potter?_

"Yes!" replied Hermione, a little put out. "He was the youngest Seeker in over a…"

"Century," Padma finished for her. She tried to make an excuse. "He just doesn't seem the type to – to be a Seeker."

"Oh," replied Hermione, her smile back. "I know what you mean. I always say that he could be such a better Beater. He's so muscular – so sexy… mmm… yes…"

Padma, out of politeness, turned away and sat down on her own bed. Once Hermione had come to terms with the situation, Padma pursued her question.

"So what happened at the Yule Ball?"

Hermione looked heavenward and said in an ecstatic tone, "Well, we weren't really friends before the Ball – "

_No, you wouldn't be, thought Padma, considering the real Hermione's relationship__ with Harry. "-But then, well, __loads of people asked me to the Yule Ball. I mean including Neville. It was tough refusing __him, of course, but unfortunately I had just accepted to go with Viktor Krum… I felt sorry for Viktor. First, he was refused from the Bulgarian Quidditch team and then he had no partner for the Ball. So I had to go with him…"_

Padma was beginning to see that some things in this alternate reality were the same as the one she was used to – she belonged to. Neville _had asked Hermione to the ball. Viktor Krum __had gone with Hermione._

"But when we got to the ball, I was shocked to find Harry didn't have a partner. I mean, I knew a lot of girls had asked him, but Harry's quite proud. I think he was going to ask Ginny, but she's always found him a bit of a snob. Anyway, she was with Neville. Then Viktor went off to get us some drinks. I was sitting by myself and Harry came over and asked me to dance. I didn't expect _that. We haven't spoken much throughout our time at Hogwarts. We both have our own circle of friends. So we were dancing and then we began… well, the rest's private." She finished with a beatific smile on her face._

"How… nice," finished Padma. As she undressed, she thought hard. Harry had had a partner at the Yule Ball – her sister. Was it because of the lack of a Patil girl that the Hermione she was talking to was now seeing her Harry? Or was it simply because everything in this world seemed to be the opposite of actuality, thus proving that Harry and Hermione were destined to be nothing more than best friends? And Ron… Ron didn't seem to play a part in the couple's lives at all. Was that what was stopping them – Ron? It did not seem likely. Since the events of the fourth-year Yule Ball, Padma had always envisaged that Ron and Hermione would eventually become an item.

This is what she thought of whilst undressing, but whilst lying in bed all she could think of were her current situation and how much she wanted George.

                                                                                    *

"You stay on your own then?" George asked. He had been left by Harry ages ago and was currently studying what his bedroom looked like. "Yeah," replied Lee. "It might be difficult for me to adjust to having a roommate, but then we're hardly here for long, are we?" He gave a nervous laugh – the kind of chuckle that George's best friend Lee Jordan would have mocked. George simply replied. "No, not long at all. Exams start next week?"

Lee nodded. "Mine start on Tuesday, yours on Monday."

_Right, thought George. __That makes sense. This Lee Jordan is such a swot that he's memorised both our timetables._

"Now, rules of the room…" began Lee. _Here we go, thought George. "This half is mine, that half is yours."_

"What a good idea!" exclaimed George, before he could help himself. Luckily, Lee did not know he was being patronised. "There are three showers, so that's not a problem… I won't clean up your mess and I don't expect you to clean up mine… And that's about it! Oh, do you keep any pets?"

"Pets? No," replied George. 

"Oh good. I don't like some animals."

George cocked his head sideways and said slowly. "You have arachnophobia, don't you?" 

Lee took a step backwards. "How did – did you know that?"

George thought of the huge tarantula that his best friend kept and sighed "Sixth sense" before climbing into bed.

                                                                        *

The morning could not come quickly enough for Padma. She had lain awake long after Lavender had apologetically shuffled into the dormitory. George's words kept haunting her; she could almost hear his whisper them. _"Don't forget… don't forget."  _How could she have forgotten before? She had honestly believed herself to be Parvati and George to be Fred. Now, she could hardly accept that any of it was real. Tom Riddle as Headmaster? Harry and Hermione together? Neville cool? Puh – lease the boy made a stick insect look like Mr. Wizarding World. Padma shivered; she was even starting to think like Parvati.

"Morning," smiled Hermione rising from her bed, flicking back her straight, even hair. No one could have guessed she had just woken up. "Have you been awake long?"

"Not really," Padma lied. She pretended to yawn and rubbed her eyes. "What time do we have to get up?" She was not really sure why she was lying to Hermione; it seemed the only natural thing to do under the circumstances. 

"Well it's a Sunday, so it's really pretty much up to us. I've got to be down early because I'm Head Girl."

Padma stopped rubbing her eyes. "Hermione," she said, struck by sudden inspiration, "why are you Head Girl? I mean, isn't the Head Girl usually in Seventh Year?"

Hermione looked at her incredulously. "Well yes, but that was before Harry came to Hogwarts." Padma blinked. What had Harry done in this reality?

"Parvati!" exclaimed Hermione. "I knew you came from India where they live in the twelfth century and everything but… come on you must have heard of Harry Potter!"

Padma feigned ignorance. She hung her head in shame as Parvati would have done if she had discovered she did not have Calvin Clone's new fragrance. "But everyone's heard of Harry!" Hermione was taking Padma's cluelessness as a personal injury; someone had not heard of her boyfriend. "I mean honestly, does that mean you've never heard of You-Know-Who either?"

Padma was utterly confused. Ron had told her that Tom Riddle had grown into You-know-who and yet here was Hermione2 telling her that Harry was somehow linked to her Headmaster.

She had to be careful here – she could not give too much away by pretending she knew too little. How could she deal with this? She imagined she was talking to someone really stupid and gullible… someone like Pansy Parkinson.

"Hermione," Padma said slowly. "Professor Riddle obviously didn't tell you this, but… but  I – I had a memory charm put on me a few days ago."

It worked like a real charm. Hermione's hand went to her mouth. "Oh I'm so sorry Parvati!" she exclaimed. "Who was it?"

"I can't really remember," replied Padma hoarsely as though the memory was too painful to bear. "I just remember hearing _"obliviate" _and then everything went black…"

"Oh right!" smiled Hermione, giggling to herself. "That's why you don't know what Harry did or who You-know-who is…"

Padma looked up forlorn. "Hermione," she sniffed. "You've been such a good friend to me already… I don't suppose you could fill me in on all this stuff? It's going to be so embarrassing in class when I don't know any of it…"

Hermione looked a bit dubious as though it was not her place to tell. Padma knew what she had to do – it was time for the waterworks.

"And we have O.W.L.s next week!" she wailed. "How on earth am I supposed to pass History of Magic?" She dissolved into floods of tears. It was quite a useful piece of instant Drama; she and Parvati had taught it to themselves by using onions.

"Oh Parvati, don't cry!" exclaimed Hermione, jumping out of bed. "I'm sure the teachers will understand why you can't sit the exams." She stood beside Padma's bed uncertain how to comfort the girl.

Padma was quite enjoying this now. She stopped crying suddenly, looked up at Hermione her face shining with tears and said "Oh no, Hermione! Do you know what this means?" Hermione shook her head. "I'll have to repeat a year! I'll have to share a dorm with the **fourth years**!" She broke into renewed sobs. She felt an arm slide round her shoulders. _That's done it _she thought, utterly satisfied.

                                                                        *

"You-know-who is very, very old," whispered Hermione. Even though the Great Hall was empty, she spoke quietly. "He's ancient – older than Professor Riddle. No one really knows why he's stayed alive for so long. There have been rumours, of course. Some people reckon he used The Philosopher's Stone… do you know what that is?"

Padma knew exactly what it was, but knew that if she admitted this Hermione would not volunteer any further information. "Something to do with alchemy?" she asked instead. 

Hermione nodded. "It produces the elixir of life – that's to say, anyone who has the stone can live forever."

Padma pretended to be impressed. Hermione continued "you-know-who, however old he is, is power hungry. The story goes that Harry was born with a scar on his forehead…" Hermione waited patiently for her new "friend" to look astonished. "On his forehead? A scar?" asked Padma.

Hermione nodded. "Shaped like lightning. This gave Harry powers that no wizard or witch has ever dreamt about."

"Like what?" asked Padma, genuinely curious.

"When his milk bottle was too hot, he'd cool it with his hands. Once, when his aunt criticised his father, he actually _blew her up_. This was all when he was a baby."

Padma was beginning to see a link between this story and what had actually happened to Harry. "So why doesn't he have the scar anymore?" she asked.

"I'm coming to that," muttered Hermione a little impatiently. "Harry's scar was a symbol of how he was linked to Professor Riddle. The Headmaster has powers similar to Harry, although much more potent. Harry was only a baby after all… From what Harry remembers and from what others have told me, it goes like this: the Wizard from the other side, the rising force, came to Harry's house on Halloween when Harry was a year old. He – he…"

Padma was surprised to see that Hermione was blinking back tears. "He killed Lily and James." _This is all the same _thought Padma. _What's going on? _She tried a different tack. "Are those Harry's parents?" she asked kindly. 

"Yes," sniffed Hermione. "Well, then you-know-who turned on Harry and of course, everyone expected him to kill him. But he didn't even try."

Padma almost fell out of her seat. _Okay, maybe it's not all the same. _"What?" she exclaimed. "Why? Why did he kill his parents then?"

Hermione shrugged. "No one really knows. Harry reckons you-know-who just liked killing people. But anyway, what do you think he did to Harry?"

Padma shook her head, her eyes locked with Hermione's. Hermione leant forward and whispered "He put a finger on Harry's forehead and _removed the scar_."

Hermione waited for a response. Padma sat back in her seat, a little annoyed. "Is that it?" she asked. "I seem to remember Harry stopping the Avada Kedavra curse…" She stopped herself quickly before giving too much away.

Hermione shook her head bewildered. "Must be the memory charm mucking up," she said.

"Must be," replied Padma. "So what's the significance of removing the scar?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Harry could have been the most powerful wizard the world has seen since Merlin. But you-know-who stopped that. It's as though he could tell what would happen in the future, as though he had travelled back in time…"  
Padma's eyes glinted. Travelled back in time? Or travelled through it to another dimension? Harry was not the best Hogwarts student, but he was by far the bravest and the most capable. Was the purpose of these two dimensions to see the consequences of one boy's power? "I need to know one more thing," said Padma slowly, drinking all the information in.

"Yes?" asked Hermione. "Hurry up though, Harry will be wondering where I am."

"Who is this you-know-who? What's his name?" Padma was well aware it might just be Voldemort and Professor Riddle was somehow unrelated, but she had a funny feeling that this was not the case.

"Oh Parvati…" moaned Hermione. "No one likes to say his name…"

"I know," replied Padma irritably. "How about a game of charades?" she asked sarcastically. "Ok!" answered Hermione brightly. She held up two fingers. At first Padma thought she was being sworn at but then realised Hermione had started. "Two words," she said dully. "First word… sounds like…" Hermione was buzzing round the Great Hall. "Bee?" Hermione became excited so Padma continued. "Tea? It's not Professor Trelawney, is it?" Hermione shook her head violently to show she had made a mistake.

"What about the second word?" asked Padma exasperated.

Hermione nodded and feigned opening a handle and stepping into a room. "Room?" asked Padma. Hermione shook her head. "Handle? Door?" Hermione nodded, relieved.

Padma's eyebrows knitted. "Bee…door. Beeder? No… Bee wasn't right, was it? Wasp? Ludo Bagman?!" But this was wrong too. "Bee… bee… bumblebee?"

Hermione sank into a chair and nodded. "Bumblebee door… bumblebeedor… bumble…"

And then it hit her.

It was so obvious. This world was the opposite of everything. Riddle was Headmaster and her headmaster was…

"**_Dumbledore?_**" Padma did not need to see Hermione wince to know that she had guessed correctly.

                                                                        *

"So You-know who's Dumbledore, our headmaster. And their headmaster is Riddle who is…"

"You-Know-Who." George was getting into the habit of finishing sentences for Padma. He had been particularly impressed by how she had persuaded Hermione to relate Harry's life story.

"I understand everything now…" he said. "Except one thing."

"What's that?" asked Padma.

"Where the hell do we come into all this?" he demanded.

Padma shrugged and lay her head down on the grass beside them.

George cocked his head sideways and looked at Padma lying down. He knew her actions well; in a moment she would close her eyes and her chest would rise and fall in time with her breathing. He longed to stretch out a hand and finger her delicate mouth… he wondered how much of her he could touch without…

"Hey Padma," he said, hit by a sudden inspiration. "Reckon if I kiss you again we'll get home?" Padma's body quivered as she suppressed a laugh.

"Nice try Weasley," she smiled, still keeping her eyes closed.

He sat in silence, deep in thought. He knew this world was somehow dangerous, but right then, it did not seem that bad. He felt safe whenever he was with her. He heard the sound of footsteps. Upon turning, he saw a pale, blond, nervous boy hurrying along the grass, looking furtively around them.

"Hey Padma," said George again.

"_No George_," she said firmly.

"It's not that," he interrupted, a little impatiently. "Who did we ask for help when all of this started?" Padma opened one bleary eye. 

"Harry," she replied at last.

"And you know how everything's upside down here?"

"Yes?"

"Well… who's the opposite of Harry?" Padma's brow furrowed. She still did not understand. George turned her in the direction of the worried boy. "I think," he said quietly. "That it's about time we introduced ourselves to Mr. Malfoy."

Padma turned her face to George's. "Brilliant!" she exclaimed and they hurried over to Malfoy. "Er, excuse me?" said George to Malfoy's back. Draco turned around, looking utterly petrified. "Yes?" he squeaked.

"We're new around here," said Padma quickly. "We were wondering if you could show us around…" she invented wildly.

"Oh," replied Malfoy, looking relieved. "Of course. I have some homework, but it can wait… I'll just ask Pansy to help me with it or something, it's such a help to be best friends with the cleverest witch in the year! I'm Draco, by the way. Draco Malfoy."

"I'm George," said George before Padma could stop him. 

Malfoy's brow furrowed. "I thought you were…" Then a look came over his face of realisation. "You're – you're the two!" he spluttered. Padma and George looked at each other nervously. "You," said Draco turning on Padma. "You're Padma, aren't you? Oh my God, I can't believe it, it's finally happening."

"Ssh!" silenced Padma. 

Draco bit his lip. "Sorry," he said quietly. "It's just I'd given up hope… it's been so long since…" He suddenly changed tack. "We'll go find Pansy," he said firmly and then we'll go up to your dormitory George. Lee's gone into Hogsmeade and won't be back for ages."

* * *

It was amazing how pretty Pansy could look when she did not have a scowl on her face. She had a side parting kept straight by a purple flower fashioned in her hair and, if possible, her appearance was more _intelligent_.

"You have to trust us completely," she said seriously, but not patronisingly. 

George ran a hand through his hair. "Not to be rude, but why should we?" Pansy and Draco looked at each other as though communicating non-verbally.

"We'll go first then," said Draco awkwardly "to show we trust you." 

Padma sat forward. "We're all ears."

Pansy let out a deep breath. "Draco and I have had our names down for Hogwarts since we were born. Our parents gave us everything we ever wanted but we felt as though something was wrong. Life was empty. When we came to Hogwarts, it became even stranger. The Head Boy, Harry, could not string two sensible words together – and Riddle had chosen _him_ to share his powers with. Besides he was a bully. The amount of times, I've seen him pick on younger students – and the teachers turn a blind eye. I couldn't help feeling – and later Draco told me he felt this way too – that this was not the way it was supposed to be. Somewhere down the line it had gone wrong. Then one day, last year, Draco asked to meet me late at night. Vince and Greg – those are our friends – had found a mirror on the third floor… Oh you better take over Draco."

"Vince had found it first," said Draco taking up the story. "He came running back to the dorm and got me and Greg up. None of us were really allowed on the third floor but he persuaded us to go up. The wonderful thing was, the mirror was not a reflection of us – it was a reflection of what we wanted. Vince, who Harry's always picked on, saw himself as Head Boy, confident and charismatic. Greg, who's clever but can't hold a broom properly, saw himself flying for Puddlemere United. Then I went in front of it and I saw something wonderful. It was Hogwarts, like it's supposed to be. Harry wasn't Head Boy and he didn't want to be. He didn't like being famous, he just wanted a few friends and that would be enough. He had them – Hermione was kind and clever and completely different and Ron, who hardly speaks to them, was also friends with him. The teachers were good and kind. Bullying did not go on as much as it does here… I know it sounds hard to explain but I saw all that in a still reflection. I could have stood there for hours gazing at the breathtaking world, but it started to fade in front of me. The characters disappeared, one by one until there were just two left. They told me their names and that one day they would come into my world and that I must help them. I ran and got Pansy and…"

"And I saw exactly the same thing," interrupted Pansy. "We only saw them once, but once was enough. What they looked like started to fade in our memories, but we remembered their names. They were…"

"Padma and George?" asked Padma. Pansy nodded. 

"That's how we know. We're meant to get you back to your own world, but that's also all we know. It's your turn."

George lay back on his bed and groaned. "You tell it Padma, you'll be better."

Padma sighed in the same way Pansy had and began "George and I have always been what you would call the lesser of twins…"

                                                *                      *                      *

"Wow," gasped Draco after Padma had finished speaking. "That is unbelievable!"

"But you do believe us?" asked Padma hurriedly.

"Of course we do," said Padma smoothing the situation over and her skirt down. "It's just hard to imagine that Riddle's like that in your world… and that we're evil…"

"Everything's opposite," said Padma gently. "This takes a lot of getting used to."

"But I don't understand!" burst out Draco. "Why are you supposed to leave if you belong here?"

"We _don't_ belong here," replied Padma desperately. "Maybe we were meant to but that was in the beginning: it's not that way anymore. George hates you Draco – and he owes everything to Harry. Pansy, you can't stand me and spend your time devising potions to make me get spots."

Draco grinned, but Pansy had something else to add. "By the sounds of it, you were meant to be together and the only way that's possible is for you to stay here."

**"That's right."**

"Glad you agree with me, er, whoever agreed with me. Who was it by the way?" asked Pansy looking confused.

Padma tensed. She had not seen anyone's lips moving.

The floorboards creaked and the four sharply turned their heads in the direction of the noise. "Welcome back Weasley and Patil," a low voice hissed.

"Show yourself," commanded George, sounding braver than he felt. 

"**Gladly,"** answered the voice. With that, a small torrent of wind swept around the dorm, filling it with a pungent smell and a thick fog. Through the yellow gas, Padma clutched onto George. She buried herself in his clothes for protection against the gale, but she need not have bothered. The wind died down as quickly as it had come. When the smoke cleared a tall figure's silhouette could be made out.

It was Dumbledore.

A/N:     NOW REVIEW J


	14. Accept Reality

The Parting of the Twain: 15

Disclaimer:        If you're new to this – why haven't you read the other chapters? Go back, go back I charge you! – then you won't know that we have to put a disclaimer on every fanfic we write. So… J.K. Rowling owns all characters, locations, and rights. I own the other world, Professor Lingualus, Madam Clavier and this plot. "The Source of Magic" is taken from Piers Anthony's Xanth series and mythology in general. And something from Oliver.

A/N:                 I'm two years older than when I began writing this. It's not really suitable for the same audience, but hopefully you've all grown up with me. The rating is 15.

Chapter 14:      Accept Reality

It was Dumbledore, yes, but not the Dumbledore Padma and George knew. Gone were the twinkly, warm eyes, the arresting smile and the wise expression. In their place, stood a stranger with a neatly trimmed beard, a shallow gaze and a thin wand clutched in his right hand, poised above their heads, ready to fire.

"So you've made it," he said calmly. "At last." Padma's body swayed and George automatically stretched his arm out to steady her. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "Well, well, at last – and together. I couldn't have hoped for much more." George sharply drew his arm back to his side. Dumbledore chuckled and took a seat in one of the green velvet chairs. "How much do you know?" he asked, taking out a cigarette. Padma plucked up her courage.

"Enough to know you're not to be trusted." Damn. She had meant it to sound confident and suave. What had escaped her was a terrified little squeak. 

Dumbledore laughed cruelly, cupped his hand and lit his cigarette. "My dear, opinions do not matter. Your opinion matters the least. You are a mere pawn. You're not even a real person." 

Oddly enough, Padma didn't feel shocked. It was as though truth, a long-lost cousin, had been restored to her. Her gaze did not falter, and though she continued to stare at Dumbledore, he was losing his intimidation over her. She was looking through him, into the bleak, hollow reality of her situation.

"Yes," whispered Dumbledore, softly, as though reading her mind. "You knew it inside all along, really. And you did too Fred – or George, whatever you choose to call yourself. Neither is your real name after all."

"Shut your mouth," snarled George. "My parents named me George – you wouldn't know because you had nothing to do with it."

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head. "No my boy, I named you. I created you. I created this entire world. I rule it." He paused, wondering whether this was a good time to give the game away. "It began with James Potter a long time ago – with the Order of the Phoenix… Potter thwarted my plans… I was furious of course, but I wasn't just furious. I was disappointed. Potter had so much _potential_, he could have gone so far… I so wished it had all been different…" Padma looked at George nervously. This seemed like a good time to escape except she didn't know how. There was no window to climb out of and he was blocking the way to the door. Dumbledore had them right where he wanted, and he was drawing the time out to suit himself. "Yes, different. And then it struck me. It _could_ have all been different. I could make it different. What if James followed me?"

"So you cloned him?" asked George quietly.

Dumbledore's eyes glinted. "Oh no – I did something much more superior than that. I personified his evil." Padma was completely lost but George seemed to be on track.

"James Potter was not evil," growled George. 

"Evil, that's such a… pathetic word, don't you think?" asked Dumbledore carelessly.

"That's something only evil people would say," retorted George.

Dumbledore sighed and chose to ignore him. "James Potter was not 'evil' – that is true. He had evil in him and he chose not to use it. But that's not to say he hadn't thought about it. How many times did he taunt Lily Evans before falling for her? How many times did he plot to kill Severus Snape? And how many times did he consider turning to the Great Arts, to me, to save Lily and Harry?"

Padma was about to retort but George said "Well that's only natural."

Padma turned to him in disbelief. He shrugged. "I'm not saying he would _do _them… but dark times make people desperate."

"But you're right," continued Dumbledore, enjoying the gulf he was drawing out between them. "Good has been taught to us, moulded into our society. Evil, as you call it, is natural, instinctive, primal, what cowards dream of doing, the foolhardy set out to do and a select few accomplish… the people who died fighting against the Great Arts were the cowards."

"Liar," hissed Padma.

"Informer," amended Dumbledore. "After Harry stopped me I took the evil from James and rebuilt his double… I took the evil from the whole of that world and rebuilt it, Harry, Hogwarts, even the muggle world is more corrupt here. But I had to put some evil back into it, so that they would finish it for me. I put two doubles back into the world."

"Us," said George. It wasn't a question. 

"If we're so evil," demanded Padma. "Why aren't we – why aren't we – in Slytherin?" It was a poor ending but she could not think of anything else.

"But remember – the hat wanted to put you there… it's where you belong. You're my representatives. You're my number 1s."

Draco burst out laughing. George and Padma turned around sharply. They had almost forgotten he and Pansy were there. "Sorry," stuttered Draco between his laughs. "But it's just so funny – sounds like a muggle track I heard a while ago – and a cheap one at that… _you're, you're my number one… I'd do anything for you_…"

Padma turned to George in astonishment. "Oh my God," she said quietly. "We are _so _not meant to be in this world."

"But who are you?" asked George. "Are you Dumbledore or – or him?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "This is merely a form I assume – I could take anyone's shape … my magic is that powerful. I could be this…" His body began to disintegrate into white smoke. He formed a new shape with black hair and dark skin. "Uncle Ali!" exclaimed Padma. 

"Mr. Bashir," said George coldly. 

"Or this," said Padma's uncle and he reformed as Madam Pomfrey. Then he became Dumbledore again.

"Then who – what – in hell are you?" demanded George.

"I am a Source of Magic," replied Dumbledore calmly. Padma and George exchanged glances. "I've heard of that…" said Pansy slowly. Of course she would have. "It was in one of Ptomely's tomes, wasn't it?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Care to enlighten us any time soon?" asked George.

"The Source of Magicks are supposedly where wizards and witches gain their craft from," replied Pansy. "That's where the word sorcerer comes from. Some worship them as Gods."

"How disgusting," said Padma, who was a firm believer in one God.

"Them?" asked George. "How many are there?"

"Two," replied Source of Magic. 

"Let me guess," said Padma witheringly. "One that's good and one that's evil?"

The Source of Magic nodded. 

"And you are the evil one?" she snorted.

"There is no good and evil," he said exasperated. "There is just power and those too weak to use it."

"Oh bloody hell!" moaned Padma, who was now not frightened, just pissed off. "You're like a stuck record – I'm sure you've already said that one to Harry and I bet you didn't even make it up anyway. You know what you need? One of those thick Hollywood American Muggle accents that do a 'Previously on Buffy the Vampire Slayer'".

She had expiated his patience. "And you need a taste of pain!" 

With that, Padma felt her skin begin to burn. It was as though she had been transported to seventh hell – the invisible flames licking every part of her body. It was pain that she had thought was impossible to experience without dying and she cried out, in complete agony, praying that he would have enough mercy to relent, to let her bathe in earth's cool, soothing fire…

_Anything. Anything but this._

**_Anything?_**

****

_Yes, yes! Anything!_

And so the fire melted. 

For a split second, she felt utterly at peace, as though her bruised soul was being massaged. Then the massage felt more rough, more vigorous. Hard claws dug into her essence, terrifying and thrilling her at the same time. Someone was holding her, and forcing her to look up at the images that were in front of her. She saw Parvati looking at her and spitting, her parents burning every photo that they owned of her while she stood atop the bonfire, Mandy and Lisa dragging her down, shutting her in a coffin, burying her alive… You-know-who bringing out his wand and cursing her whilst an assistant, hidden behind his master, laughed. And still the massage went on, rougher, coarser, but still invigorating, rousing. She knew she should not be doing this, but she couldn't stop herself. The caressing hands slid down her, touching her in ways she did not know existed. She felt her soul's carrier, her body, gasping for breath in utter ecstasy. She felt violated and reborn at the same time. The images in front of her moved in quicker succession and the massage as well grew more sensual and petrifying. All her worst fears were in front of her. It was almost as though this were a Dementor's kiss, except that she did not feel cold or sick. She felt flushed, shocked at how she was responding to such action. She let out a moan as her soul reached its zenith – but whether it was a sigh of elation or a primitive groan she was not sure. Then, just as she began believing that this, watching nightmares overlap each other at the same time as feeling pure pleasure, could possibly be a good thing, she realised what had been done to her. 

She hadn't been kissed by a dementor; she had been raped by one.

You-know-who's assistant came forward and took hold of her – or perhaps he had been the one who had been the dementor all along – and shook her arms. She screamed loudly, realising what had been taken from her, and in such a cheated way as made her sickeningly enjoy herself. Her scream seemed to last an age, and when she saw who the dementor was, the bastard who had robbed her of her innocence, she screamed even louder. 

"Padma, Padma! Calm down," he said.

Padma broke out of his hold, and backed away from him. She was shivering. There was no pleasure now, only shame at what she had allowed herself to do, and horror at who had done it to her. "Get the hell away from me, you bastard," she hissed.

He actually had the nerve to look confused. "Padma, it's me, George," he said. "What's the matter?"

She kept walking away from him until her back hit the wall. "How could you?" she whispered, sliding to the floor and dissolving into tears. "How _could_ you?" 

George shook his head in disbelief and then turned back to You-know-who, who had somehow changed into Dumbledore. "What the hell have you done to her?" he shouted.

Padma drew her legs up to her chest and clutched them. She was stone cold. Pansy, who had appeared from somewhere, came over and tried to put a comforting arm round her, but Padma flinched and moved away. No-one, **no – one, **would ever touch her again. Dumbledore and George were having some sort of argument. She seemed to have gone deaf – George was yelling at him and kept pointing to her, Dumbledore was laughing but retorting back.

Then Dumbledore held his hand up for silence and swished his wand. Within an instant, a mirror appeared in the room, next to him. Padma wasn't sure what was going on. She could only think of two things; that she wanted to see Parvati very, very badly, and that she never wanted to see George Weasley again.

Pansy gingerly nudged her again, then forcibly helped her to her feet and led her over to the mirror. George was looking at her earnestly, but Padma refused to look at him. Compared with George, Dumbledore was a saint. She stared up at him, her teeth still chattering, her legs still weak.

"Padma," said Dumbledore, in a gentle voice. "I have to ask you something."

"Don't listen to him Padma!" interrupted George urgently. She ignored him.

"Padma, George wants to leave here," Dumbledore continued kindly. "He wants you to go with him." Padma folded her arms across her chest and looked at the ground. "Now, I have to ask you," Dumbledore continued slowly, "whether you would like to go with him or stay here, with your friends Draco and Pansy."

"Go home, Padma!" shouted Draco. "You don't belong here!" Dumbledore waved his wand at him and for some reason he became silent.

"Draco doesn't know what he's saying, Padma," smiled Dumbledore benevolently. "This is your home. Don't you want to stay here, with Ammi and Abbu?"

"Padma," pleaded George, "Your parents aren't real in this world. They're at home with Parvati."

"Shut up!" hissed Padma, without looking at him. "What the hell would you know about it?"

"Padma, look at me," said George quietly. But she couldn't. Not yet. It was too soon after the liberty he had taken with her. George continued anyway. "I would _never _do anything to hurt you. I don't know what he's done to you, but I swear…"

"He didn't do anything to me," she said, her eyes brimming with tears again, the world becoming misty. "You – you…" She couldn't bring herself to finish.

"It's ok, Padma, you don't have to explain anything to him," soothed Dumbledore. 

"Shut it," snapped George. "Padma, I'm sorry but we don't have time for this. Just tell the bastard you want to go home and we'll settle it later."

Padma clenched her fingers into fists, seething with anger. _Settle it later. _He may as well have been talking about a bill. She saw that he had always treated her that way. A fifteen year old job that had to be taken care of. To think she had become friends with him, trusted him, fallen in love with him… made her feel violently sick.

Bravely, she turned her face to look at him.  "I have no intention of going anywhere with you ever again."

George's jaw fell slightly open. "What – what do you mean?" he stuttered.

"Just that," she said Her legs were still shaking, but she was gradually learning to stand. "You've stolen everything from me, George Weasley. You took my identity, my friends, my family and then, for cheap thrills, you took the one thing I had left."

"Padma, what…"

"You know perfectly well what!" she interrupted. She would not cry. He would not see her cry. "I had a wonderful life – parents who loved me, a sister who was my best friend, two of the best friends in the world and I was happy. That all changed the day I met you. I wish I never had. I wish I'd never sat down at that bloody table on the second day of term…"

"Padma," interrupted George desperately. "Don't you think I've lost things too? But it's not our fault – _he's_ doing it all."

"…I always wondered how to define evil, what it looked like. Now I know. What you did… killed my – my childhood, **that** was evil!"

"For God's sake, it was only a kiss!" he said.

"It was not only a kiss! Go home you fucking liar, go home!" she screamed. 

Dumbledore took over. "I think it's pretty clear where Miss Patil wants to stay. I suggest you leave her alone now. You've done quite enough."

"Don't imagine for one minute, that I'm going to let you keep her prisoner here!" George growled.

Dumbledore sighed. "My dear boy, I am not keeping her prisoner at all. If Padma wishes to return with you I shall, of course, let her. However that does not seem to be the case, does it Padma?"

Padma shook her head. "There now, George, you see? I think it's about time you were off home."

George sank to his knees. "Padma, _please_… This isn't just about us. It never was. We're not all like Harry - but we can all make a difference. You have a choice now… Come home."

"Now Mr Weasley," said Dumbledore. "Your way home is quite simple. All you have to do is look in the mirror, concentrate until you see home and then the glass should break. Step right through it. Have a safe journey."

George took one final look at Padma. "Come home. For Parvati."

"What are you talking about?" snapped Dumbledore impatiently, dragging George to his feet. Something in his tone, for the first time, struck Padma as inconsistent. As George was taken to the mirror and Dumbledore returned to her, she found herself thinking of Parvati. What would she have done, faced in the same position? Would she have made the same choice?

George looked into the mirror, his brow furrowing. "Home…home…" he muttered.

"Would you like anything my dear?" Dumbledore asked her. "A glass of water, perhaps?"

"I should like to see my sister," she said.

"Hmm? Who?"

It was as though she woke up. 

George lifted his fist to the mirror, clenching it tight… "Wait," Padma called out. Dumbledore started. "What? What on earth is the matter?" George turned to face her, keenly.

"I – I want to see him bleed," said Padma quietly. George's face fell.

Dumbledore laughed. "But of course you do my dear," he said. "But come now, we can't be greedy… don't you think you've made him bleed enough for today?"

"Please, sir," she said quietly, "I want some more."

George looked up at her, confused. Then slowly, without Dumbledore seeing, he winked at her.

"Very well, Padma," said Dumbledore. "You can bash him about a bit before he leaves us. I'm sure he won't fight back. He never could resist you."

Padma winced, but nevertheless walked smoothly over to George. He turned to face her, backed up against the mirror. She did not look at him, but instead over his shoulder, into her reflection. She was surrounded by Ammi, Abbu, Uncle Bashir, Mandy, Lisa, Hermione, Harry, Ron… and there at the front of them all, standing beside her, holding her hand was Parvati. Parvati nodded and smiled at her. She knew she had made the right choice.

Silently she clenched hold of George's shoulder's, pulled him towards herself… 

"No!" cried Dumbledore suddenly. Padma smashed George back against the mirror, shattering it into a thousand pieces. "No!" she heard Dumbledore cry. But it was too late. She and George were falling through the mirror, falling deeper and deeper…

Thud.

They had landed in the kitchen of The Burrow, in the same place as they had left it. She was also lying on top of him, so she scrambled to her feet. 

"Oww," moaned George. "Did you have to do it so hard?" He massaged his head, relieved to find it was not bleeding. He got to his feet, grinned and moved towards her. She took a step back. "Hey, hey," he said, the grin vanishing. "It's over." He tried to put an arm round her but she flinched.

"You're right," she said. "It is over."

George shook his head. "I thought…"

"I still meant what I said," Padma continued. "I know you – you can't have done it, but I can't trust you anymore." She moved towards the door. "Goodbye George." He opened and closed his mouth wordlessly, but she was gone.

Parvati was waiting for her. Padma flung her arms around her. "God Padma," gasped Parvati, "what the hell made you so perky?"

"I'm – I'm not perky," she said. "I think I need to go to hospital." Parvati looked concerned. "What happened? George didn't – didn't try anything, did he?"

"No," said Padma quickly. "Nothing like that. I just feel faint, that's all."

"Okay, let's go then," Parvati said. She took her hand. 

It would, indeed be a long time before Padma trusted George again. It would be a long time before she trusted a lot of people again. However, the person she trusted most in all the worlds was standing next to her, leading her away from danger, holding her hand.

                                                                        *

"He – hey!" shouted Fred, coming into the kitchen. "What's going on here? … Padma gone already?"

"Yeah," said George.

"Hard luck mate," said his brother. "So… er, nothing happen then?"

"Not really."

"Oh. Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, my head's a bit sore though."

Fred laughed. "That will be the drink."

George shook his head. "No I don't think so…"

"Course it will. And there's only one way to stop that." He opened a bottle of Champagne that he had been saving. "Another drink. Just the two of us."

He poured two glasses full, while his brother sat in contemplation. "Guess we'd better start revising for N.E.W.Ts soon, eh?"

George coughed. "In the grand scheme of things, they don't really seem very important."

Fred raised his eyebrows. "The grand scheme of throwing a party?"

"Something like that," George lied. He picked up his glass. "Happy Birthday Fred," he said, clinking the glass with his brother's. Fred looked a little confused, as though there were something he was missing. "Happy Birthday George," he replied.

And they drank.

*                                                          *                                                          *

"JOHNSON, Angelina!"

Graduation day had come quicker than anticipated. All of the Seventh Year had passed, although it was rumoured that one of the Weasley's had spoken to Dumbledore and swayed his result on grounds of "personal reasons".

"JORDAN, Lee!"

Padma was, like all of the other students, present in the audience. She had not seen George since his birthday party, and luckily neither of them had much chance to dwell on it as they had been preparing for their exams. Madam Pomfrey had kept Padma in for the first few weeks after the incident – the hospital could not diagnose what was wrong with her, it insisted damage had been done. Her parents had begged Padma to tell them what had happened, but her story was always the same: someone must have spiked her drink early on in the night and the rest was a blackout. Parvati, though irritated Padma did not tell _her _the truth, had the compassion to back up her story.

"SPINNET, Alicia!"

Then her O.W.L.s had been upon her, which she somehow had managed to struggle through. She suspected that Dumbledore had an idea, in any case, that she would not do well. So she had not had much opportunity to speak to George, to explain what had happened that night. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, she woke up shivering, having dreamt the same nightmare. She would find herself sobbing and clutching her legs to her chest. It was just as well George did not know the extent he had hurt her. She realised of course, that it hadn't been him, that it was the Source of Magic conjuring an illusion, and that it was physically impossible for her to be raped in the circumstances. It didn't help – she still felt sick.

"WEASLEY, Frederick!"

And now George was leaving. Hopefully she would never have to see him again. The Seventh Year did not take the Hogwarts express. This year, they would all be apparating in celebration of their magical licence. She didn't know whether she would have preferred him to get the train, or whether this was best. Well, it looked as though the choice had been made for her.

"WEASLEY, George."

Here he was, striding confidently onto stage, his red hair looking so silly underneath his wizard's hat. Her heart went out to him. She would miss him terribly. He accepted his scroll, and as he was leaving the stage, stopped suddenly. Padma shifted uncomfortably. She had a bad feeling that she was something to do with this. 

He turned back and walked towards Professor Dumbledore. He was grinning widely. He unfolded the graduation roll in front of him and indicated his results. "Please sir," he announced loudly and looking straight at her, "I want some more."

Padma broke into a wide smile and then started laughing. She laughed so hard, even though she was the only one making a noise in the hall. George winked at her, rolled up his certificate and walked offstage. Even by the time he'd gone, Padma was still in hysterics. She knew, at that moment, that she would meet him again. He was still the only one who could make her laugh, and she never wanted to laugh without him.

"I love you George Weasley," she muttered under her breath. Was she stupid in letting him go? Should she rush out of the hall and find him? No. It was not time. Their time would come again. He would be there when she least expected it, acting as though he had never left.

And she'd wait for him. And she knew he'd wait for her. But she wasn't going to wait around for that time to come. She had a life to lead. She got to her feet and practically ran out of the hall towards the summer.


End file.
